Castle & Beckett: Homicide
by skygirl55
Summary: Det. Kate Beckett isn't so sure about her new partner, Det. Richard Castle. He's irritating and doesn't always play by her rules...he also just might be the one person she never knew she needed. AU set circa Season 1.
1. Prologue

_A/N: Hi guys! I'm very excited about this story-it's one of the longest I've ever written! It will be 26 chapters + prologue &amp; epilogue._

_Also, I want to be upfront about the posting schedule. I will update 2x a week when Castle is not airing (so for the next 2.5 wks), then only 1x a week during those next 4 weeks. Then, when we hit hiatus it'll be back to 2x a week._

_Edit 6/3/15: thanks to **lordofkavaka** for the awesome cover art!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Prologue (September)**

Kate Beckett impatiently tapped her foot against the worn tile floor of the NYPD's Twelfth Precinct. Reading the memo on her computer screen all she could think was: _This is bad, very bad_. So bad, in fact, it was quickly approaching "worst day ever" territory. It was terrible enough to discover the good reputation of the NYPD had been sullied once again by a cop on the take—a captain, no less. But now this—a partner reassignment? The day was getting worse and it wasn't even nine a.m.

Okay, she told herself. She could handle this. She had partners before and just because she had gone over two months without did not mean she had deluded herself into believing she would be partnerless forever. No, that wasn't how the NYPD worked. And, she thought, forcing herself to see her coffee mug as three-quarters-full not one-quarter-empty, perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she would not get stuck with a rookie for a partner; that would definitely make things worse. She had neither the time nor patience to train someone green. Hopefully, her new partner would be seasoned enough to know the ropes. Or, at the very least, know how to handle himself in the field outside of whatever bullshit they were preaching in the academy this week.

Still, she had sixty-eight agonizing minutes to wait for the identity of her new desk-mate. Why couldn't Captain Montgomery have at least listed the names of the three transfers into their division? Then she could have at least prepared herself ahead of time. Though, to be fair, she was not overly familiar with the homicide cops at the ninth. It was entirely possible that had their names been listed she would not have had any more information than she had without them.

"Beckett." Detective John Anderson nodded to her as he walked into the bullpen and took the desk two spots to her left. She offered a soft smile in response.

Kate casually sipped her coffee mug and watched as Anderson logged onto his computer and read the memo she had discovered not fifteen minutes earlier. His shoulders hunched and his head ducked as he read. Though she couldn't see his face, she imagined his brow quickly filled with dozens of wrinkles; it always did when he was confused.

Anderson was a good guy; a good cop. Twelve years her senior he had been a cop longer than she had been an adult, but he never made her feel that way. From day one, he'd treated her like an equal, even though she was greener than Kermit the Frog. And, unlike his partner, he was always willing to offer a helping hand.

A few minutes after he sat down, Anderson turned his chair so that he faced Kate, the dark skin on his face filled with worry lines. "You see this, Beckett?" he asked just loud enough to be heard over the distance.

She nodded. "You don't know who the transfers are, do you?"

Anderson shook his head. "No; this is the first I'm hearing of it. I guess you'll be getting one of the new guys as a partner, won't you?"

"Seems that way."

"Good luck," he told her and she knew his wish was genuine. After his partner had retired the year before, he was suck with Dan McCreary, the eager newbie who may as well have had "douche bag" tattooed across his forehead; they both knew how well that had worked out.

Sixty agonizing and completely unproductive minutes later, the bullpen was beginning to fill. All the on-duty detectives and beat cops had arrived. Groups of them were clustered together throughout the homicide floor presumably talking about the impending announcement. In addition, three new faces had appeared, though Kate couldn't say she recognized any of them. Two of the men-one a stout Hispanic and the other a six-foot-six Caucasian who presumably was a basketball player in a former life—looked younger than her. Rookies. _Please don't let either of them be my partner_, she silently wished.

The third man stood apart from the other two. He was tall, though not as large as Larry Bird's protégé, but he had similarly pale skin and chestnut hair. He wasn't unattractive, but his handsomeness came in a rougher, rugged sort of way. If she was forced to guess his age, she would have said mid-to-late thirties, though his rumpled sport coat and wrinkled shirt collar certainly weren't doing him any favors. Kate decided to hope this man would be her partner, though her wishes were based solely on his age and thus experience level.

Before Kate could examine the newbies any further, Montgomery called the attention of the room. Standing outside his office, his booming voice carried easily across the entire floor.

"If I could just have everyone's attention for a few minutes I will try and get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. By now I'm sure you've all heard about what went down at the ninth and I'm certain you'll all agree with me when I say we'd like to put this incident behind us and move forward together—stronger.

"At this time, I would like you all to welcome three new people to our team. Men." Montgomery beckoned the three transfers forward and they joined him standing in front of the glass windows of his office. "We have Nathan Carver and Jason Sanchez," Montgomery said, gesturing towards the younger two men, "and Richard Castle."

"Son of a bitch," Kate hissed under her breath. Richard Castle. Richard Castle!

_Oh no—take it back! Take it back!_ Her brain screamed in a desperate attempt to retract her earlier wish, but it was too late.

"Carver will partner with Smith, Sanchez with Timothy, and Castle will be with Beckett."

Kate resisted the urge to groan aloud. This wasn't happening; this could not be happening.

Though she had never seen his face, she certainly had heard of Richard Castle. Despite being older than her, Castle had only been on the force about the same time she had, though they had always been in different precincts. His reputation, however, had made the rounds. Simply put: he was a loose cannon.

He was always hot-rodding. Making crazy and often dangerous arrests. They were good arrests, but Kate believed the dangerous aspects under which he apprehended suspects negated their values. She was by the book and from what she heard he broke every rule he could get his hands on; this was going to be a disaster.

"Beckett?" Montgomery's voice pulled Kate from her internal fury. She looked up to see he stood with a grinning Castle by his side. "You two haven't met before, have you?"

"No, sir," Kate said before turning her eyes to her new partner. Partner. Ugh. The mere thought made her skin crawl.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the male detective said, extending his hand.

Kate shook it with great suspicion. She mumbled a hello to her new colleague before turning to her superior. "Sir, may I have a word?"

Montgomery nodded and Kate pushed past the two men to lead the way into his office. Once they were both inside, she shut the door. "Sir, I think I would really prefer to be partnered with Carver or Sanchez."

"I know." He smiled at her. "That's why I put you with Castle."

She folded her arms across her chest. Okay, this had officially crossed into worst-day-ever territory. "Sir, are you punishing me?"

The captain chuckled. "What would I be punishing you for, Kate?"

She shrugged. "Being harsh on the idiots you partnered me with before."

That time, Montgomery let out a full laugh. "No, I'm not punishing you Kate; I'm giving you the opportunity to mentor someone."

Kate blinked. "Isn't Castle older than me? By, like, a decade?"

"He is, but you've been a detective for longer. You're the best I've got, Beckett and I'd like to see some of that brush off on someone else."

"You're buttering me up," she accused.

He smiled. "Is it working?" When she didn't respond, he continued. "Listen, Kate, Castle might not be the person you chose, but he's not a bad detective. His case closure rate is very good, in fact. He just needs someone to…" Montgomery let his voice drift off as he tried to find the right term—one that would not offend her.

"Kick his ass?" she offered.

"No. Encourage him to stay on the right path, shall we say?"

Kate grumbled. "Do I have a choice?"

The elder man smiled devilishly. "No."

"Fine. But," she warned, "I'm not promising this will last longer than any of the others."

* * *

Out in the bullpen, Richard Castle stood beside his brand new desk. He skimmed his fingers overtop the clean keyboard and then down to the smooth wooden surface. It wasn't the same as his desk at the ninth, but it would work just fine—especially if it enabled him to stare at the lovely lady detective all day long. What had Montgomery said her name was again? Right—Beckett. Kate Beckett.

Damn. She sure was a hell of a lot different than his previous partner, the oh-so-very-green Marquez who had the luxury of not being transferred.

Truly, he was not one to shy away from change. If anything, he welcomed a different routine now and then as monotony drove him crazy, but he couldn't say he was thrilled to switch precincts. His trepidation merely stemmed from the situation; he feared other detectives would view him as tainted or suspicious since his previous captain had been dirty. That could not have been further from the truth, which simply meant he had to work extra hard to prove that with his new coworkers. After all, he could not afford to have _another_ failed career on his hands.

"Hey Castle." A voice from behind pulled him from his thoughts. Castle turned to see a man several inches shorter and more than several years younger than him. He recognized this man. They had worked together a few months prior on a case that crossed into his jurisdiction, but he could not remember his name.

"Oh, hey, you're-"

"McCreary. Dan McCreary," the younger man said, holding out his hand.

Castle smiled and shook it heartily. "Right. McCreary. Well, at least I know one person, right?" He forced a laugh and then slipped his hands into his pockets. "So what can you tell me about my new partner?"

McCreary laughed. "Beckett? Good luck."

Castle's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"She's a black widow; eats hear partners alive. Must have been through four of them in the past year," he explained. Castle's eyes widened with surprise. "She's cold as hell, but I guess that's what makes her so good. She's got the best case closure rate at the twelfth…unfortunately," he added with a mutter, his tone clearly indicating jealousy.

"Interesting." Castle exhaled as his eyes drifted towards the captains office, where she stood with her arms folded.

"Just don't expect a smiling face from her every morning—or ever."

After McCreary walked away, Castle continued to watch Beckett in Montgomery's office. Black widow, huh? Well, that was alright with him; he could handle a challenge. Besides, she couldn't possibly be _that_ bad.

* * *

Not two minutes later, Beckett stormed out of the captain's office and returned to her desk. Seeing his opportunity to make nice, Castle approached her with a smile and the usual spring in his step. When she sensed his presence, she glanced up at him, annoyed.

Suddenly, Castle found himself rendered speechless. Upon their initial introduction, he hadn't fully taken her in, but now he had the opportunity. Her hair was chopped short and spiky in a maroon-hued color much too dark for her. Her nose and lips were of good proportion and while she had cheekbones that could be seen from a mile away, it was her eyes that struck Castle. The chestnut pools flecked with emerald reflected back a crushing amount of determination, pain and a little bit of fury.

"What?" she asked him; she couldn't have sounded more annoyed if she tried.

"You have gorgeous eyes," he responded without much thought.

They narrowed at him. "That's sexual harassment."

"Wha-I…ah." Shit. What? Had he said that aloud?

"Sexual harassment, Detective; it's in the manual."

"But-I, ah was just complimenting you," he stammered stupidly. Well this was one hell of a way to start a new partnership. Idiot.

"Well, don't." Her response was short and simple before she turned back to her computer screen.

Somewhat dumbstruck, Castle walked to his seat and sat down. Okay, this was bad, but he could fix it. He leaned to his right so that he could see her around their back-to-back computer monitors. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot here, Kate. I can call you Kate, right? We're going to be partners and I just wanted to-"

"Listen to me, Castle," she said, spitting his name like it was a curse. "I've worked very hard to get where I am and I won't have some half-cocked hotshot come in and mess up my career. If you get in the way of my investigations, I'll bury you. Got it?"

Wow.

How was it possible she got even hotter when she was threatening him?

"I, ah, yeah, Beckett; yeah, I got it."

"Good," she said. Then, without another word she turned back to her computer screen. This was definitely the worst day ever.


	2. Chapter 1

Richard Castle fought a yawn as he stood at the kitchen sink of his Manhattan apartment. In his hand, he loosely held a Britta filter pitcher under the faucet. As it filled with water and became progressively heavier, his arm inched down further and further under the weight until his elbow rested against the countertop. He yawned again. As a thirty-eight-year old adult he'd spent more days than he could count waking at the ungodly time of five-thirty a.m., but no matter how many more times he set his alarm for the pre-dawn hour he would never get used to it. Never.

With the pitcher full, he set it on the counter beside the sink to allow the water to filter through and pool in the pitcher basin. Turning around, he only needed to take one step forward until he arrived against the opposite counter in the galley-style kitchen. There, an empty plate and knife were laid out beside a loaf of wheat bread and a jar of chunky peanut butter.

Castle untied the knot on the bread bag, pulled out two slices, put them on the plate, and tied the bag shut again, making sure to press out all the air before he did so. Working on auto-pilot, he cut the top crusts off the bread—top crusts only. (She preferred wheat bread to white, but never the top crusts.) On each side of the sandwich he slathered a healthy dollop of nut-filled goodness before smashing the slices together—peanut butter side in—and licking an extra bit of peanut butter from his fingertips. From the cabinet beside him, he retrieved a clear plastic bag and, after cutting the sandwich in half—diagonally!—he placed both halves inside.

The task was mundane, he had to admit. Every morning a sandwich. Always chunky peanut butter. Always wheat bread. Always cut diagonally, but this minutia he liked.

At eleven years old, his little girl wasn't so little anymore. As soon as her age hit matching double digits she informed him that she was grown up and she could do things for herself now. They both knew that wasn't true as there were many things she could not yet do—both legally and per her father's rules, but being eleven did change things.

In a way, it made it easier. At this age, she was old enough to stay by herself in the apartment at least for a few hours during the day. She could pick up her lunch and lock the apartment door behind her if he had an early shift at the precinct. He didn't have to worry about making sure a babysitter was with her for every second and that relieved him (and his wallet) greatly. Still, that didn't stop the worrying. Or the sad pangs in his chest when he saw her eying lip gloss and high heeled shoes with envy.

All too soon she would be growing up, becoming a teenager, graduating high school and leaving for college. Thoughts of that nature drove him almost immediately into a panic attack. Seven years, he minded himself; he had seven years until that happened.

Could Alexis make her own peanut butter sandwich? Of course. As long as it was a Tuesday or a Thursday. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday she had peanut butter and jelly. (No one could say his daughter was not particular.) She was absolutely capable of making her own sandwich, but the fact of the matter was he liked doing it for her simply because it was something he could do for her.

With his varied working schedule it wasn't possible for him to be there for every event, every homework question (though, truthfully, with Alexis's advancing age she was quickly outpacing his knowledge base—particularly in math). He did the best he could, but as a working single parent sometimes that was exactly what it became: the best he could do. Thank god for that scholarship to a private school; at least she was getting the best education he could provide with his civil servant salary.

Covering another yawn with the back of his hand, Castle dropped an orange, a bag of pretzels and the sandwich into a paper bag. He carried that bag and a granola bar over to her backpack, which hung on the coat closet doorknob. He tucked the lunch bag into the main zipper area and the snack into one of the side pockets. Realizing he forgot her drink, he hurried back to the kitchen. After plucking a pink flower covered aluminum water bottle from the cabinet, he filled it with the water in the Britta pitcher, and added that to her bag before zipping it back up.

Still waiting for his coffee to kick in, Castle showered and changed efficiently. Back in the kitchen, he grabbed a packet of brown sugar cinnamon PopTarts from the cabinet and tucked them in his jacket pocket; he would eat them on the subway on the way to the Twelfth. Just before he left, he paused in front of the refrigerator and stared at the message board, which hung at waist-level to him.

Each morning he had to leave before she was awake, he liked to leave her a message. Sometimes funny, sometimes inspirational. That morning, he kept it simple. He grabbed the magnetic marker and yanked the cap off with his teeth. _Have a great day, Pumpkin_, he scrawled before capping the pen and returning it to its hanging position on the refrigerator surface.

With this final morning task complete, he turned off the kitchen lights, grabbed his work bag, and headed out the door.

* * *

"Good morning, Beckett," Castle said to his partner as he walked past her on his way to his seat. As usual, she was already in position, half a coffee mug deep in the morning by the time he arrived. And, as per usual, he received barely a grumble of a greeting in return, but he didn't mind. She wasn't a morning person (or, quite frankly, a people person), but that didn't matter to him; he would still be polite and cheerful to her.

Honestly, given her general irritation with and at times downright animosity towards him he was surprised their partnership had lasted as long as it had, but six months later there they were still sitting at adjoining desks. When on his first day, Detective McCreary had warned him about Beckett's harsh nature, he thought the younger detective was messing with him. Or, at the very least, exaggerating greatly.

Then, he was faced with one full week of cold stares and ignored greetings. When he did something she didn't like, she snapped at him. When he did something she appreciated, she said nothing. Her defensive mode was so prominent, he was actually surprised she did not erect a wall between their desks and place a few land mines just to be safe.

Briefly, he considered being the one to end their partnership. Did he really want to face each and every day with hostility in the workplace? Of course not. But he was also not one to give up.

Despite her less than cordial demeanor, the lady detective intrigued him. His gut told him that meanness was not her true nature, but that her snarky attitude was merely her defense mechanism. Her emotional bullet proof vest.

His prior experience working with female detectives was limited to one: a strapping five-foot-ten alarmingly muscular and over-tanned woman who terrified every man within a ten foot radius of her. As he was convinced she could bench press him (or possibly break him in half over her knee), Castle always treaded lightly around Sami Derringer at the Ninth. Thus, she treated him with casual politeness and they got along just fine. Detective Beckett, however, was different.

For starters, no one ever had to wonder if she was a man or a woman. She was all lady and nothing but. Secondly, not only was she a woman, but a beautiful one at that. Castle was faced to bear witness to many a cat-call she received while they were out and about in their first few weeks together.

This, he knew, was a pivotal part of her story. In order to command respect in the male-driven police world she overcompensated for her appearance with a strict and harsh at times personality. Realizing he would never have any idea what it would be like to be continually objectified on the job, he gave her the benefit of the doubt and reserved his judgment until their working relationship progressed past its initial weeks.

Quickly—within just six days, in fact—he discovered McCreary's other decree to be true: Kate Beckett was an extraordinary detective. She picked out the tiniest and most critical of details before he'd even skimmed his eyes over the crime scene once. She linked evidence like it was neatly placed on a child's connect-the-dots puzzle and not scrawled haphazardly on the Twelfth Precinct murder board.

When it came to the victim's families, though—that's when he saw her shine. She was soft and tender with them. Never rushing them for information, letting them take their time to get out their grief. She stayed still when they seemed closed off or reached out a hand if she thought they needed one. Watching her took his breath away and that's when he knew for sure; he was extremely lucky to be partnered with Kate Beckett.

Unfortunately, she did not seem to feel the same. Though his demeanor remained soft an opened, indifference was the best he could get out of her for weeks. Then, four weeks after they met, he—somewhat miraculously—spotted something she had not on a case. When he pointed it out to her, she looked like she'd been slapped across the face with a wet towel. He even heard her whisper to herself, "I can't believe I missed that."

That was the first time she commended him on a job well done. Of course, her softness was short lived and the next day she was back to yelling at him for spilling his mug of coffee and getting some on the corner of her desk, but he would take it. From that point on he knew she at least somewhat respected him as an investigator. As a person…well, that was still up in the air.

"So," Castle began as he returned to his desk with a steaming mug of mediocre coffee, "were you able to track down that Giles guy?"

Kenneth Giles was a person of interest in their latest case. The day before, they had been handed the case of a man stabbed in the vestibule of his apartment building. In talking with the victim's family members, they discovered he had an argument with Giles earlier in the week. Giles, a former business partner of his, had—quote—"gone off the deep end" recently and thus quickly rose to the top of their suspect list.

"I did," the female detective informed him. "Turns out he's got a history of aggravated assault and battery. I was able to find an address for him through a former employer so whenever you're ready we can go."

Castle took a long swallow from his coffee mug and then smiled at her. "I'm ready now; let's go."

She stood from her desk, grabbed her jacket and snagged the keys to their shared cruiser off her desk. Castle bit his lip as he watched her pocket the keys and head towards the exit. Their joint vehicle was one of the main points of contention between them as they could never agree on who would be the driver.

Beckett almost always insisted on behind the one behind the wheel, but Castle also preferred to be the driver, as he had been in his previous partnership. More days than not this led to an argument typically only settled by rock-paper-scissors and someone's grumpy attitude for the remainder of the day.

As they boarded the elevator, Castle made the impromptu decision to allow his partner to take the wheel without argument. Mostly, this was due to the fact that he only had one and a half cups of coffee and didn't want to be the one in charge of fighting early morning Manhattan traffic. Maybe, if he felt like it, he'd argue for the drive home.

* * *

"This is the address?" Castle asked when his partner pulled their cruiser up to a dilapidated looking building in a questionable area of town.

Kate double-checked the email with the address on her phone. "Yep," she nodded in confirmation. From his tone, she could hear her partners concern and she understood why. This was definitely not a street she would want to be on after dark—unless she was armed, of course, but it wasn't even eight o'clock in the morning. What could possibly go wrong?

Kate stepped out of the vehicle and shivered slightly as she slammed the door shut. She plunged her hands down into her coat pockets but found them disappointingly bare. Damn. Where were her gloves? As much as she wanted to believe that March meant the onset of spring, that morning New York City's weather reminded her that winter still held on by its icy clutches by providing an air temperature of a chilly thirty-one.

Ignoring the uncomfortable pinch of the air on her cheeks and nose, Kate jogged into the building ahead of her warmer companion, who not only possessed gloves but a scarf as well. She searched the lobby for an elevator and found the one tucked in a corner to display an "Out of Order" sign. On the bright side, she thought as she made a left turn towards the stairwell sign, at least the trek up three stories would warm her up.

"Which apartment is it?" Castle asked as they walked.

"3C," she replied. "Hopefully he's home, because he doesn't have a current employer so tracking him down someplace else would be difficult."

"Right…" Castle sighed, side-stepping a puddle of what he chose to believe was spilled cola in the stairwell.

When they arrived on the third floor, Kate pulled open the stairway door and immediately gasped from the noxious fumes that assailed her nostrils. Instinctually, she took a step back which resulted in the heels of her boots unintentionally crushing the toes of her partner. She mumbled an apology, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Jesus," he muttered, bringing the edges of his scarf up to cover his face and nose, "are we going to find another body up here?"

"I don't think so." She knew the scent of a decaying human all too well, but this was not it. Her attuned nose quickly determined the equally unpleasant scent to be a mixture of garbage, feces, and urine.

Following the spray paint directions on the wall (evidently a sign was too much to ask for) Kate and Castle turned right towards apartments C and D. They stepped over heaps of debris and trash, which appeared to be accumulating for more than a few months. Practically reading her mind, her partner keenly observed, "I'm going to go out on a limb and say this apartment building hasn't been properly inspected recently."

"Probably not."

As they rounded the next corner, muted screeching could be heard. Both detectives reached for their holstered weapons. He drew, but she held steady. Glancing over her shoulder she shook her head. "It's just a TV."

Still, he looked uncertain. "Beckett… I don't know about this. Do…do you think we should call for backup?"

Rolling her eyes, Kate turned back towards the upcoming apartment doorways. "Relax Castle; we're fine."

"Are you sure?" His tone grew quieter and more trepidations. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

She turned back to him, glanced down to the filthy floor and then back up at him. "Watch out, I think you dropped something."

His eyes darted downward and he took a half step back. "Oh what?"

"Your balls."

Taking pride in the irritated expression of her team member, Kate turned her progress forward once more. Three steps later, she reached the entrance to apartment 3C, directly across the hall from the doorway to 3D, which appeared even more dilapidated, if that was even possible. Her training kicking in, Kate paused and listened closely to the apartment in question for several seconds. When she heard nothing, she rapped sharply on the door.

"Kenneth Giles?" she asked, speaking in her loud, commanding cop-voice. "NYPD. We have some questions we'd like to-"

It happened so fast, Kate didn't have time to realize what happened until it was over. As the words exited her mouth, the distinct tha-thunk of a shotgun being cocked could be heard. She didn't react in time, but thankfully her partner did, tackling her to the ground as buckshot blasted through the cheap wooden apartment door.

A second blast happened no more than a few seconds later, sending even more splinters raining down on them. Kate shut her eyes tightly, but it wouldn't have mattered; Castle's body hovered protectively over hers, obscuring her from all debris.

When they heard clinks of the shotgun casings hit the ground, both detectives sprang into action, not wanting to waste a moment. Kate shot her hand to her hip holster, but it was Castle, who already had his weapon at the ready, who put a bullet in their suspect's knee. He hit the ground with a thud and a yelp.

"So, ah, you might want to call for backup now," he observed wisely as he placed one knee down to aid in his standing. He held one gloved hand out to her to assist her from the ground, but she refused and pushed herself up. Feeling sticky remnants on her fingertips, she grimaced and wiped her hands on her pants before plucking her cell phone from her pocket.

While her partner stepped through the battered apartment door to cuff and disarm their attacker, she phoned dispatch and requested backup as well as an ambulance for their suspect. With her phone call completed, she gazed inside Giles' apartment and found him lying on his stomach, arms cuffed behind his back, his shotgun safe several feet away.

Exhaling, she brushed her hair out of her eyes and gazed around to observe the damage the shotgun blasts had caused. Of course, given the preexisting state of the apartment building hallway, damage seemed to be a relative term. For the most part, the pellets had lodged themselves into the opposite wall and door, but upon closer examination, Kate could see holes in the door; some of the pellets had gone through.

Concerned, Kate approached the door to 3D cautiously. As she neared, she could hear scraping and shuffling near the door and then a muffled curse. Adrenaline coursing through her once more, she held her weapon at the ready and called out for her partner.

"What?" he asked as he ducked through the opening of the door. She nodded silently towards 3D and he approached with caution. He raised his fist to knock on the door, but the second his knuckles touched the door swung open with a horror movie groan.

Kate edged her way into the opening, weapon leading the way, until she heard, "Don't shoot me man! I already been shot! Damn fool shot me!"

Castle stepped in behind her and they both discovered a gangly African American man huddled on the floor just inside the door, his white t-shirt turning crimson at the left shoulder. "Oh god," Kate exhaled, too stunned to properly address the scene. Fortunately, her partner was not suffering from the same affliction.

As he stepped over to the victim, he was already unwinding the scarf from his neck. He mashed it against the man's shoulder; he yelped in pain. "It can't be that deep," Castle concluded, glancing up at her. "Not after going through two doors."

"How do you know, man? You ain't the one bleeding!" the victim yelped. Castle muttered an apology before pressing harder on the victim's wound to staunch the bleeding.

* * *

Several hours later, Kate and Castle had finally returned to the Twelfth. Their person of interest turned prime suspect had been sent to the hospital to have surgery on his knee. Their innocent bystander turned victim had been looked over, deemed to have minor injuries, but was also sent to the hospital as a precaution.

When they were finally able to leave the scene, Castle took the car keys from Kate's hand and, for the first time in a long time, she did not protest. As they drove silently, only one question filtered through her mind: how could she have been so stupid? She had seen Giles' rap sheet and knew he had a history of violence, yet she'd dismissed Castle's concerns. Rationally she knew in most circumstances they would have been fine, but she had dismissed her partner's gut in a way she would not have dismissed her own, and that guilt clawed at her insides as they drove.

"So," Captain Montgomery said as he met the silent duo just beside their desks. "You two want to explain to me how a civilian ended up shot inside his apartment this morning?" The captain's gaze darted between Kate and Castle before finally settling on the female.

Kate opened her mouth to explain, but no sound came out. Fortunately, her partner stepped in. "It was a fluke incident, sir. Beckett and I agreed we had no reason to believe Giles was dangerous; at that point in our investigation he was merely a person of interest. Fortunately, Mr. White was not seriously injured and will make a full recovery."

Montgomery nodded as his eyes drifted towards Kate. Under his gaze, she dropped her chin towards her chest, feeling like a toddler being scolded by a disappointed parent. "Well, let's be glad for that."

"You didn't have to say that," Kate said once their captain had walked away.

Her partner shrugged and leaned his hip against her desk. "We're partners."

"But I'm the one that screwed up."

"You didn't screw up, Beckett," he assured her. "I had a gut instinct that could have just as easily have been wrong. We had no factual way of knowing that psycho was waiting for us with a shotgun behind his apartment door. That's what partners are for, right?"

At his light smile, she curled up one corner of her lip. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He nodded and turned towards his desk, but she stopped him before he could take more than two steps away. "Thanks, Castle; for having my back."

He nodded at her. "Any time."


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you all so much for all the great feedback!_

* * *

**Two**

At the unpleasant hour of five-fifteen a.m. Kate Beckett smacked her alarm off with a groan. She lay on her stomach with her right arm dangling over the edge of the mattress and her face smashed down into her pillow for a few extra seconds. She knew she was committing one of the cardinal sins of pre-dawn risers (always get up immediately after turning off your alarm or risk falling back to sleep) but she didn't care; her sleep the night before had been fitful at best.

After nearly two full minutes, she forced herself upright and sat on the edge of her bed with a yawn. Her bedroom still dark save the ambient light from the numerals on her alarm clock, she groped on the nightstand until she felt the cool edges of her phone. She held the power button down until the screen illuminated and then returned the item to the nightstand.

As she had not been on call the night before, she afforded herself the luxury of disconnecting for the evening. This was one ritual she insisted on lest she be tempted to check messages or her work email. Turning the phone off shortly before bed seemed the only way to void those temptations.

With her sock-covered feet skimming against the cool floor, Kate shuffled her way into the bathroom and cranked on the shower. Without her contacts in, she made her way bleary-eyed through her morning ritual: lather, rinse, repeat. It wasn't until she brushed her teeth and popped in her corrective lenses before she began to feel remotely awake.

Swathed in her fluffy steel gray robe, Kate returned to her bedroom and scooped up her phone. Two missed text messages from an unknown number; interesting.

When she opened up the message screen, Kate realized with great disappointment that she knew the sender. Sort of, anyway. His name was…Brandon? No. Bradley. Yes, that was it. Brad, the investment banker.

She had drinks with the blonde haired, blue eyed texter two nights prior. Her medical examiner friend Lanie had set up the meet, thinking the two of them would hit it off. Brad was the friend of a man Lanie was currently seeing and, in her friend's idealistic mind, it would be the perfect opportunity for them to double date. Fortunately, Kate had the wherewithal to recommend she meet Brad solo to see if she even liked him before she was roped into a full evening with Lanie and her latest beau.

During her ninety minutes in Brad's presence, Kate couldn't honestly say she found anything particularly wrong with Brad. At least, not in a screamingly obvious way. He was good looking, though at only five-foot-eight she did not feel comfortable being taller than him, especially given her propensity towards several inch heels atop her already five-nine frame. But that she knew to be a superficial and ultimately silly reason, so she pushed it from her mind.

The fact of the matter was she simply didn't _like _him. There was nothing wrong with him, but she did not feel any desire to see the man again. She just wasn't interested. Their interaction was decent, but she decided that if _decent_ was the most positive thing she could say about the man, then he simply wasn't worth her time.

That, it seemed, was her default setting in recent days. Weeks. Er—Months.

Every man she met—whether it was a set up through friends or someone she bumped into at an event or, rare as it was, at a bar—seemed to fall into the same unimpressive category. For the most part, there was nothing wrong with the men. Their conversations did not offend her, nor did they send up any of her red flags; however, in no way were they great, let alone good.

Because of her job, she had developed a fairly decent set of people skills so she was fully capable of having an intelligent conversation with a stranger. Thus, the majority of her dates did not fall into the terrible category. But, also because of her job, she did not feel the need to waste her precious personal time on something that was merely so-so.

The life a homicide detective was high stress, no doubt. Kate loved her job—truly. She would not change her profession for anything, but when she was off the clock, she wanted to be relaxing. She wanted to have fun and, quite frankly, sitting in a mediocre restaurant with a stock broker prattling on about how the Yankees were doing that season was not her idea of fun. She could have equally as much fun at home on her couch with a book—and that kind of fun didn't involve wearing anything other than pajamas.

By the simplest definition she was in a rut, but she couldn't honestly say she minded. She was happy with where she was and, to her, that was all that mattered.

After deleting Brad's texts without responding, Kate returned to the bathroom and examined her reflection in the mirror. She combed through her now shoulder-length brown locks and nodded approvingly. After her latest trip to the salon her hair was finally back to the chestnut color she was born with; the one she preferred. The cranberry-purple tone she experimented with the year before had certainly been interesting, but not something she planned on repeating any time soon.

After applying her usual under-eye concealer (those dark circles never had a chance to go away with all the late nights she put it in…) mascara and eye liner she swiped some tinted lip balm across her lips and returned to her bedroom to dress.

Moving throughout her closet on auto-pilot, Kate pulled out charcoal pants and a matching blazer with an emerald green blouse for underneath. After dressing, she grabbed a protein bar from the kitchen and her bag from the entryway before heading out for the morning.

Per usual, she arrived at the precinct before her partner. It wasn't that he was late; she preferred to be extra early. That way, she could let her caffeinated beverage do its magic and wake her up gradually while she checked her emails. She wasn't exactly _not_ a morning person, but she preferred not to speak to anyone before seven a.m. if she could avoid it. Particularly not her irritating-at-times cohort, who frustratingly learned which of her buttons to press rather quickly during their six month tenure.

Six months. Sometimes the duration of their partnership surprised even her. From her first impression of him, she figured they wouldn't last six weeks, but as it turned out she had unfairly judged him. He was a handful, no doubt, but the tales of his crazy and erratic behavior had been greatly exaggerated. Fortunately, his reputation of being a decent investigator was not and thus their partnership remained.

A little less than an hour and a full cup of coffee later, her desk mate arrived sans his typical morning greeting. She had grown so accustomed to his morning hello she almost startled when she spotted his large frame plopping down across from her. Curious, she glanced around her monitor and noticed numerous worry lines creasing his forehead. He studied the cell phone in his palm a bit too intently for such an early hour.

If one thing could be undeniably said about her partner it was that Richard Castle was generally a pretty agreeable and relaxed guy. It really took a lot to get him riled up. In fact, Kate felt she could count on one hand the times he'd been upset or overtly concerned in six months. The majority of those times related to his daughter. One instance revolved around him receiving a phone call to pick her up from school ASAP. As Kate later found out, she'd fallen in gym class and needed three stitches in her lip, but from the way Castle acted one would have thought the pre-teen needed a kidney transplant.

Thus, seeing such worry on her partner's face concerned Kate slightly. "Morning Castle. Everything alright?"

"Wha-ah-" He startled and looked up at her. When their eyes met, his face relaxed slightly. "Ah, Beckett, Hi. No, no I'm fine; everything's fine."

Though he turned back to his phone, Kate continued to look at him for several moments longer. She doubted that everything was "fine" as the tone of his voice was much more frazzled than usual, but she wouldn't press, particularly not if it was a personal matter. As he was more of a heart-on-his-sleeve type she knew he'd tell her before the morning was out if something was truly bothering him.

For the most part, Kate's morning progressed without incident. After closing a case the day before, she predetermined that day to be a paperwork catch-up day. She had every intention to finish her paperwork from that case in the morning and subsequently dedicate the afternoon to beginning her preparation for being a trial witness the following week, but as usual things did not go as she planned.

The first few hours went well and she was able to complete a good portion of her arrest paperwork, but shortly before ten she was interrupted by the sound of a particularly mournful sigh coming from the adjoining desk. Setting her pen down, Kate peered around her computer monitor to observe her partner, wrinkled brow and all, staring at his phone for the umpteenth time that morning.

Leaning back in her chair, Kate let out a slow breath. Damn him for doing this to her; for getting under her skin.

On the average day, her partner reminded her of one of those wind-up denture gag gifts: a constantly chattering object that hopped and jolted all day long. He rarely if ever sat still. He was always up and moving around or crushing a stress ball between his sturdy fists and then tossing it up in the air. In addition, he interrupted her at least two or three times an hour to ask a question or point out something ridiculous.

Typically, on a day she was trying to get paperwork done, his hyperactive behavior irritated the shit out of her and thus she should have been happy he had been perfectly calm, seated and quiet all day long, but she wasn't happy; she was concerned.

Somehow—and she would be the very first to admit she had no idea how—in their six months together she'd grown to…well, "like" wasn't the right term. Respect him as a detective, certainly. Care about his wellbeing as her partner, of course. But she also had grown to care about him in a way that was not quite up to friendship level, but was certainly above the level she cared for many of the other detectives working on her floor.

"Detective Beckett?"

Kate's concern for Castle was interrupted by Detective Anderson approaching. She glanced up at him with a smile. "Hate to do this to you, but would you mind doing me a favor? McCreary went home sick and I need to follow up some leads on my case. Would you and Castle mind doing a canvass for me?"

"Sure." Kate nodded at him. She was always willing to do a favor for Anderson, especially when she wasn't sure when she'd need one in return. "Castle, you mind?"

"No, not at all." Castle, now focused and worry-line free, also smiled. "What's the case?"

"Jane Doe from overnight; stabbed and left by a dumpster, but she wasn't robbed." Anderson explained as he led the way over to his and McCreary's murder board. "Her ID came back and I'm thinking someone in her building might have seen something? I need to track down her boyfriend, but if you guys could meet some uniforms at her place…"

"No problem," Kate assured him.

After reviewing a few more details with Anderson, Kate returned to her desk to grab her jacket and keys. When she pulled her hair from the jacket collar, she noticed her partner frowning over his cell phone once more. Feeling an inexplicable urge to lighten his mood, she dangled the keys out at arm's length. "Wanna drive, Castle?"

"Oh, wha—yeah," he nodded and reached out for the keys. "Thanks."

He focused on his phone during their trip down the elevator and to the underground garage. Just a few feet from the vehicle he stopped walking abruptly and cursed. "Just, ah, I'm sorry Beckett just one second. I need to make a quick call."

"Sure," she told him casually. Then, she watched as he walked up the ramp towards street level, presumably to get enough reception to make the call. Between the echoes of the garage and the noise from the busy Manhattan traffic, Kate could not hear any of his conversation, but from his pacing, brow-rubbing and choppy gestures she deduced it was not a pleasant exchange.

A few minutes later, he silently returned to their cruiser, climbed inside the driver's seat and turned over the engine without a word. Kate waited patiently for him to speak, but he did not, so as they pulled into traffic she asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Ah, yeah, it's just…" he sighed and pounded his palm against the steering wheel. "My ex-wife Meredith was supposed to pick up our daughter at school today but she just texted me to say she was canceling…per usual," he added with the air of a growl.

Kate nodded; suddenly it was all making sense. Though she was not one to pry into the lives of her coworkers, through their working relationship she had gained a reasonable amount of knowledge about her partner. She knew he was divorced with a pre-teen daughter he had sole custody of. She had even met the girl twice when she visited the precinct with Castle's mother, who evidently helped with childcare when he was busy working. She knew Castle's mother, the only parent in his life, worked in theater, though Kate wasn't entirely certain in what capacity, but she had absolutely no knowledge of his ex-wife other than that she existed.

"I'm sorry," Kate told him gently.

"Thanks." He was silent for only a few seconds before he continued. "It's just—she always does this, you know? She lives in California and she doesn't come back to New York much, but when she does Alexis gets really excited to see her. Meredith will call and they'll make plans and then…she never follows through and…I…I just feel like it's all my fault."

Kate glanced over at her guilt-laden partner curiously. "Why? How could it be?"

"Because I let it happen! Every time Meredith makes promises…every time she breaks them and then Alexis is upset for weeks… I should just put my foot down and not let Meredith see her, but how can I do that? She's Alexis's mother; she has a right to see her but…I just…"

Kate chewed on her bottom lip as she considered Castle's confessions. Not having a child of her own, it was difficult for her to put herself in Castle's shoes entirely, but she understood where he was coming from. He felt it was his duty to protect his daughter at all costs, but at the same time keeping her away from her mother would make him the bad guy in more ways than one.

"It's still not your fault, Castle. It's unfortunate that Alexis's mother acts the way she does, but you can't control that. Just explain to Alexis that something came up and her mother can't make it."

After easing the vehicle to a stop at a red light, Castle glanced over at his partner. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to look her in the eyes as you do it."

She smiled softly at him. "Touché."

As they sat in silence, Kate continued to think about Castle's words. From his comments, he implied he and the mother of his child had been separated for some time. This, she supposed, made sense, but the curious investigator in her wanted to know more. Despite herself she asked, "So, ah, you guys haven't been together for a while then?"

"Eight years next month," he informed her.

Oh wow, Kate thought. She hadn't expected it to be quite that long. Given what she knew about his daughter, that would have meant the young girl's mother left before she even began schooling; how sad for her. As her partner pressed on the gas pedal, Kate cleared her throat. "That's a-"

Her thought was stolen by a scream as the corner of her eye caught a large pickup truck barreling their way. When it ran the red light, the black Silverado crushed into the front passenger side of the cruiser, spinning it nearly one hundred and eighty degrees in the process. Immediately, all traffic in the intersection came to an angry, honking halt.

Castle blinked with a groan. What the hell just happened? Why was he suddenly facing the other direction? And what was that god-awful crunching sound?

In a millisecond, the whole horrible scene came into view. The obliterated right front end of their sedan. Auto parts strewn all over the road. Throbbing pain in his neck. And the groans of the woman beside him.

Oh god, Beckett!

"Beckett? Beckett, are you alright? Kate! Kate!" He called out, turning his head in her direction to see her facing away from him, the window beside her completely smashed out. Small squares of the tempered auto glass littered their laps like confetti and the unpleasant metallic and dusty smell from their deployed air bags filled the air.

"'m fine, Castle." His partner mumbled, slowly regaining her senses.

Kate squeezed her eyes shut tight and breathed in deep to assess her body for potential injuries. She wiggled her toes. Fine. She moved her ankles. Fine. Her knees. Fine. Her fingers, wrists and elbows—all fine. Gingerly, she rotated her neck so that she faced forward in the car. Well, that didn't feel great, but it didn't hurt enough to indicate serious injury. Turning her head all the way to her left, she asked, "What the hell happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Castle sighed. He leaned forward and craned his neck so he could look out the window of the front passenger door. The windshield was too difficult to look out as it was spidered with cracks. From his position, he could barely glimpse the smashed front end of the pick-up spun towards them a few feet away. "If I had to guess, I'd say that guy T-boned us when he ran the red light."

"Asshole."

Castle couldn't help but chuckle when he heard the curse exit her mouth. "Yeah, you can say that again. Hey I think it's been about…oh, seven or eight years since I've written a traffic ticket, but I'll more than happily break out my ticket book again for this guy."

"Really," she muttered in agreement. Without thinking, she reached out for the latch on the passenger side door. She pulled on it once, twice, then three times to no avail. Groaning, she turned back to Castle. "My door's jammed."

"Ah, okay. Let me see if I can open it from the outside."

Upon opening his door, Caste swung his feet out just as quickly as he normally would, but then immediately slowed his pace. Oh, yeah; that was going to hurt tomorrow. Using the door as leverage, he pulled himself to a standing position and walked gingerly around to the other side of the vehicle. When it came into full view, he let out an audible gasp. Simply put: it looked awful.

As a typical Manhattan resident who relied mostly on public transportation, Castle had previously been in just one car accident, which was much more of a fender-bender than an accident. True, he had rammed into the back of a taxi so hard that it knocked the bumper off both cars, but no injuries had been sustained in that accident and both vehicle were able to drive away. The same could not be said for their Crown Victoria.

Castle examined the damage as the noxious scent of engine fluids mixed with gasoline entered his nostrils. The entire front right side of the hood had been obliterated. The wheel crushed and deflated; the axel clearly broken. Fortunately, it appeared the wheel had taken the brunt of the injury and the passenger side door was merely bent at the part where it connected to the front of the car. Had the truck hit even a few inches further back…well, the mere thought of that made Castle's stomach roll uncomfortably.

Shaking his head to rid his mind of the images, he walked over to the passenger side door and gave it a hearty pull, but it didn't budge. The hinging was too damaged for the door to open. Gazing at his partner through the broken out window, he shrugged. "Sorry; you'll have to get out the driver's side."

She nodded and scooted across the seat, but Castle hurried around, calling out that he would help her. She insisted she was fine, but when she finally climbed out of the vehicle she yelped in discomfort. Her whole body felt like…well, like she'd just been in a car accident.

His face wrought with concern, Castle asked her frantically, "Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Do you think you should sit down?"

He reached out for her right elbow, but she batted his hand away. "I'm fine, Castle; really. Just a little banged up."

Castle examined the right side of her face and saw a bleeding cut just above her eyebrow. "More than a little. God, Kate; I'm so sorry."

Her brow wrinkled at him. "Why?"

"Because I was driving..."

She let out an airy laugh of disbelief. "Castle, you didn't cause the accident. The guy ran the light. I could have just as easily been the one driving." Noticing the level of concern remaining on his face, Kate nodded towards the offending pick-up. "Why don't you go see if the driver is ok? I'll call for backup."

* * *

Half an hour later, the detective pair stood on the sidewalk as two tow trucks maneuvered through the now completely snarled traffic to remove the damaged vehicles. As it turned out, the driver of the pickup had been under the influence of some unknown drug when he rammed into the detectives' cruiser. Thus, he would be arrested and charged with numerous offenses. Fortunately, no one else had been hurt as a result of his actions.

Only when the mutilated sedan was secured on the tow truck did Castle gasp and reach his hand into his pocket for his phone. "Shit, what time is it? Alexis only has a half day of school today and-"

"Go," Kate informed him. He gave her a hesitant look, but she nodded. "It's fine. I'll finish up here and grab a ride back to the twelfth."

"You're sure?" he asked. Again, she nodded. "Okay. Thanks Beckett. Sorry again about the-"

"Castle," she cut off his fourth apology of the hour, "it wasn't your fault."

He gave her a fractured smile. "Still…I feel bad about your head."

"It's fine; really."

"I, ah, I…" He stammered before reaching out his arms and pulling her into a somewhat awkward hug.

Too stunned by his actions, Kate's arms hung limp at her sides for a moment before she slowly bent her elbows and rested her hands at his shoulder blades. This unexpected embrace was the first time in their partnership they'd touched more than the duration of a handshake and, quite honestly, she wasn't sure where it was coming from.

But then he squeezed her a little tighter, and she unconsciously took half a step into the embrace. His body felt so warm around hers; so strong. It was…unexpected.

Then, after another second, it was over. He pulled back, nodded a thank you to her, and then hurried off down the street. Kate watched him go for half a block before turning back to the scene in front of her with a sigh. Now, she had even more paperwork to do and, unfortunately, it wasn't going to do itself.


	4. Chapter 3

**Three**

"Daddy?"

"Yes Swe—AH!" Castle groaned when his head turned a bit too quickly in the direction of his daughter. It had been a week since his car accident, but sharp movements still bothered him. Fortunately, Beckett seemed to have recovered from her injuries. The day before when he griped about the crick in his neck she was all too quick to point out that she most likely healed more rapidly than him because of her youth whereas he, almost a decade older, fell into the old man category. Needless to say, Castle did not appreciate this comment or the smirk she wore as she said it.

Grunting slightly and massaging the back of his neck he smiled down at the blue-eyed, red-headed girl before him. "Yes, sweetheart?"

She tilted her head to the side and looked at him in a serious, concerned way that made her appear twice her age. "Are you okay, Daddy?"

"I'm fine, pumpkin. My neck feels much better than it did a few days ago, so there's no need to worry. Did you need something?"

Alexis scraped her sock-covered toes across the kitchen floor and clasped her hands in front of her. After drawing a few circles across the tile she said to her father, eyes downcast, "I had a question."

"Oh yeah?" Castle took a knee in front of her and smiled. "What's up?"

"Well…Mommy told me that she and her boyfriend are going to get married soon and then…and so I was wondering if you were ever going to get married again."

Castle exhaled heavily while looking at his little girl. He reached out his hands and placed one of them gently around each of her elbows. "Alexis, I don't have plans to not get married again. I would absolutely get married again, but I'd have to find the right lady who loved both of us very much."

"And you haven't found her yet," Alexis concluded wisely. Her father nodded. "Okay, Daddy!" Then, with that, she scampered off.

Castle sighed as he stood and leaned back against the kitchen counter. Damn, how pathetic was his dating life if his daughter was asking if he'd ever get married again? Granted, the suspicious ex-husband side of him wondered if Meredith hadn't put a bug in her ear about it; that wouldn't have surprised him in the least.

Okay, so it had been a while since he had been on a date—so what? His daughter was his number one priority. After that, came work because he needed to support and provide for her. Between the stress of switching precincts and the already high demand of a homicide detective's work, he hadn't even thought about going on a date in months.

This wasn't to say he didn't want to go on dates and meet someone special; of course he did. He had spent far too many nights alone in his bed, but it wasn't that simple. Dating was, quite frankly, exhausting. Not only did he have to meet someone he could stand, but he had to vet the woman quite extensively to find out if she would even entertain the idea of having Alexis in her life—especially considering how bad he'd been burned the last time. The fact of the matter was the majority of women his age who didn't have children didn't have them because they didn't want them, which automatically narrowed his dating pool.

Still, considering Alexis's comment he decided he needed to make a bit more of an effort when it came to his love life. He had spent too many years putting the needs of others before his own. He didn't want to spend the rest of his days alone nor did he want his daughter to grow up without a female role model in her day-to-day life.

* * *

"…all I'm saying is the Yankees better step up their game—and quickly," McCreary said as he tossed a foam stress ball shaped like a world globe across the twelfth precinct bull pen.

Castle caught the ball and gave it a hearty squeeze. "Yeah, well, the season just started so, you know, don't count them out yet." He raised his hand, poised to throw the ball back, but the clicking of heels interrupted him. He spun around to see his partner approaching her desk, hair rolled up in a tight knot at the base of her neck. He liked her better this way, he decided a few weeks earlier when she first wore the bun. It allowed him to see all her facial features without a curtain of hair obstructing the view.

"Think fast, Beckett!" he said cheekily before tossing her the ball. It hit her in the chest, squarely between her breasts before dropping to the floor. Her eyes flicked up at him, annoyed, before she sat down without a word.

Deflated, Castle let out a sigh. "Can you at least give the ball back?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you shouldn't be throwing it."

"Ooo," came McCreary's sing-song retort from across the room. "Somebody's in trouble. Is she going to send you to your room, Castle?"

Castle ignored him. He got out of his chair and walked around to Beckett's desk where he scooped the ball off the floor. "C'mon, Beckett—don't you ever have any fun?"

"Of course I have fun," she said in a dull tone, not taking her eyes off the email she was reading.

Her partner rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you're a hoot. C'mon! Where's the harm in letting off a little tension now and then."

With an audible exhale, she turned her eyes toward him and held out her hand expectantly. With glee, he tossed her the ball and she snatched it out of the air. Looking down at it, she rolled it around in her palm for several seconds before pulling her arm back and snapping it forward with enough force to launch the ball towards a trash can across the room. The object met its target; landing in the bin with a "thunk."

Kate turned back to her partner whose jaw hung slack. She smiled. "You're right—that was fun."

"Mean," he muttered at her walking over to retrieve the ball.

"Castle! Beckett!" The loud voice of their captain carried across the bullpen. "Body uptown—stabbing victim."

"On our way!" Kate called out before grabbing her jacket and the keys.

* * *

By the time they arrived on scene, medical examiner Lanie Parish was already crouched over the body. The victim was a Caucasian man appearing to be in his mid-to-late thirties. His body was left in an uptown alley propped against a dumpster. The blue-and-gray jacket he wore was completely soaked through with red, leading Kate to deduce from first glance that he had been shot or stabbed in the chest.

"What've we got Lanie?" Kate asked her friend as she knelt down by the victim.

"According to his ID, his name is Jack Coonan. Thirty-seven; lives in midtown."

"COD is these wounds on his chest, I'm assuming?"

Lanie nodded. "Yes, three stab wounds. COD would have been exsanguination. But, I should point out, he wasn't killed in this position; his body was moved here."

"Ah yes," Castle spoke as he knelt down in between the two women. "The blood pooling is wrong. The pools go out, not down."

The ME nodded. "Exactly. He was probably dead at least an hour before they moved him."

"So where's the original crime scene? And why move the body?" Castle asked.

Lanie shrugged. "That's for you guys to figure out."

Kate stood and walked with her partner out of the alley. "Okay, so it wasn't a robbery, which means the killer probably knew the victim."

"No cuts or abrasions on his hands or face, so he probably wasn't killed during a fight," Castle continued.

His partner agreed with a nod. "Sounds like we need to know more about Jack Coonan."

* * *

"Okay, so turns out this guy wasn't exactly innocent," Anderson informed Castle and Beckett when they arrived back at the twelfth. Kate had called him on their way back to ask him to run the vic's name through their database so the information would be available upon their return. "He was an enforcer for the Westies, a known Irish gang. He's got a rap sheet a mile long."

"Really?" Castle said with utmost curiosity. "Well, that could definitely be the reason he was killed."

"But with no defensive wounds?" Kate countered. "I can hardly imagine an enforcer going down quietly."

Castle nodded, conceding to this point. "Maybe he knew his attacker? The guy surprised him; jumped him."

Kate dropped her chin, acknowledging this as a possibility, before turning back to Anderson. "What else can you tell us about him? Any family?"

"Not married, no kids. Parents died when he was younger. Looks like his only relation is a younger brother, Richard Coonan—he goes by Dick."

"Hey Castle," McCreary chimed in, "How come you don't go by Dick?"

"Yeah," Kate added as she sat down at her desk. "Seems like that would be more fitting."

Castle shot her an unappreciative look while the male partners laughed. "Ha-ha. But I prefer Rick…for obvious reasons." Deciding it was best to change the subject, Castle turned back to Anderson. "Is the brother in the life as well?"

"Doesn't look like it," Anderson told him. "He had a few busts in his teens, mostly misdemeanors, but he's been on the straight and narrow ever since."

"Then I guess we need to talk to him," Kate concluded.

* * *

It took them the rest of the morning to track down Dick Coonan at his place of employment; apparently he'd been in meetings. He was, of course, distraught to learn of his brother's untimely passing, but agreed to meet them at the twelfth for an interview after his post-lunch appointment. Meanwhile, Anderson and McCreary looked into Coonan's history with the gang and any potential related subjects.

When the younger Coonan arrived at the precinct, Kate found herself falling into the well perfected pattern of offering the family member sympathy and a warm beverage before leading the way to one of the private conference areas in the precinct in lieu of an interrogation room. Dick Coonan wasn't a suspect; they simply wanted to talk to him.

The first half of their conversation was a simple and routine question and answer. Coonan could not provide any concrete suggestions for who may have wanted to harm his brother, but he admitted that his brother's line of work was not the safest. Thus, he couldn't say he was stunned that his sibling had been murdered. He gave them all the information he could about known associates and their current whereabouts, though he confessed he and his brother were not on the best of terms and therefore did not speak frequently.

"I just…I just can't believe he's gone," Dick sighed, running his fingers over his forehead. "My big brother… He was…he was just so important to me, especially after our parents died."

"I understand, Mr. Coonan believe me," Kate said, gently placing her hand on his forearm as she leaned across the table. "I lost a family member, too; I understand how difficult it is."

Coonan covered his face with his hands then skimmed his fingertips down his cheeks and onto his lips. Looking at Kate he asked, "How did you do it? How did you get over losing her?"

Kate gave him a fractured smile. "It was hard, very hard, and I don't know that you ever get over it; you just learn to live with it. But finding whoever did this to your brother will certainly help, so if you can think of anything else-"

"Of course; absolutely," Coonan nodded. "I will call you guys right away."

* * *

"Anything usable?" Castle asked his partner once the victim's brother had left the homicide floor.

Kate shook her head. "Not really. He and his brother weren't all that close so-"

"We got something!" McCreary announced as he rushed into the bullpen, his partner in tow. "Turns out, Jack Coonan had been ruffling more than a few feathers in regards to the drug smuggling ring he was a part of. It was implied to us that there was a hit put out on him."

"A hit?" Castle repeated curiously. "What kind of professional killer would leave a body like that?"

"The kind who wants their marks to look like they were victims of random street crime," Kate said pointedly. "Let's hope that Lanie can—ah" she cut off her speech when she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled the device out and looked at it. "Oh, she's got something for us."

"You know, its creepy how she can do that—know we're talking about her," Castle pointed out as they walked towards the elevator. Kate rolled her eyes.

* * *

"Lanie, darling, tell us you have-" Castle stopped speaking abruptly when he caught sight of the ME's face. Typically, she met him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance as he knew she had a love-hate relationship with his teasing. It was, quite frankly, why he kept teasing her. But today was different. She looked more serious than he'd ever seen her and, considering she spent every working hour with corpses, that was saying something. "What's…going on?"

"Is she with you?" Lanie asked solemnly.

"Beckett? Yeah she'll be here in a sec. Why? What's going on?" Castle's brow furrowed as he asked the question, the ME's concern beginning to worry him. Lanie shook him off and they stood silently for a minute before Kate walked through the door.

"Did you confirm cause of death, Lanie? Was it the stabbing?"

The ME nodded. "Yes. COD was a single stab to the kidney, but that's not why I called you guys down here."

Kate, catching wind of her friend's somber demeanor, furrowed her brow. "Okay…so why did you bring us down here?"

Lanie led the way to the body of Jack Coonan, displayed on one of the slabs near the back of the room as she spoke. "You know that new comprehensive database the NYPD just launched? Details about unsolved and closed cases that we can search through to see patterns?"

"Ohh! Did this one match another case?" Castle asked with an air of enthusiasm. "Because Anderson and McCreary did say he may have been killed by a professional; that could make sense."

Lanie glanced at him. "There was a hit put out on Jack Coonan?"

"Possibly," Castle responded. "Unconfirmed."

Lanie nodded and pulled back the sheet on the victim. Pointing to the stab wound over the kidney, she said, "Do you see this bruising? It's from the hilt of the knife. The killer stabbed him so hard that the knife bruised the exterior of the skin as it went in. This pattern—first stabbing the kidney, then making other random stabs on the torso—plus the hilt of the knife matched an unsolved from a decade ago. In that case, remnants of the knife blade were left inside the victim. I found a few metal shards inside Jack Coonan as well and I've sent them off to the lab to be analyzed, but I'm pretty sure they'll match."

"So…what was the unsolved?" Castle asked.

Ignoring him, Lanie pulled a folder out from the desk beside her. Looking directly at Kate, her face wrought with heartbreaking emotion, she handed over the file. "Honey, I'm so sorry; so sorry."

Her face and neck hot, Kate took the folder. She could hardly believe her hands weren't trembling; she could hardly believe her body wasn't shaking. Ten years. Stab wounds to the kidney. Left in an alley. It was so obvious; how had she not drawn the conclusion herself?

Her stomach in her throat, she opened the file and saw it. The match. The linked cases.

So consumed with her own horror, she failed to notice her partner stepping up behind her so he could read the case over her shoulder. He searched the page for the victim's name and read it without thinking. "Johanna Beckett." It only took him half a second to make the connection. "Beckett! Oh my god that's-"

"My mother," she concluded for him.


	5. Chapter 4

**Four**

Speechless. Castle was speechless. Beckett's mother had been murdered. Worse, Beckett's mother had been murdered by a professional killer. The same professional killer who took the life of the victim before them. His mind began to spin.

During their first holiday season together a few months prior Castle learned that Beckett's mother was no longer living. He had been casually asking about any holiday plans she had with her family when she confessed to him that her mother had passed. She spoke no more about it, so he did not know in what context she had died, but he assumed it had been because of an illness or an accident. Despite his profession, he did not naturally assume anyone's dead relatives were murdered as that was an unlikely scenario.

Suddenly, his partner's entire existence became clear to him. It felt like putting in his contacts after waking up first thing in the morning; everything blurry suddenly became clear.

From the day they met, he wondered what her story was. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman who had attended Stanford (she'd let that slip once), so why the hell has she ended up an NYPD cop? She was wounded, that much was clear. She had walls up around her; she played everything close to the vest. He had long suspected something may have happened to her to trigger he need to fight for truth, justice and the American way, but he could never figure out what it was.

Now, it all made sense. Beckett's mother had been murdered. A decade prior, meaning it occurred during her early college years. The murder had been unsolved and thus changed the course of her life. Instead of doing whatever she planned to do, she had chosen to become a cop, to seek justice for others.

After a full minute, the silence in the morgue became deafening. Gently, Castle stepped around beside his partner and gazed at her cautiously. "Beckett?"

She blinked as though his voice had shaken her from her trance. Looking up at the ME she asked, "Are there any other cases that match this M.O.?"

"A-a few," Lanie told her. She retrieved the other files and passed them over. "Kate, listen are you-"

"We have to go; thanks Lanie," Kate said abruptly before stalking out of the morgue so quickly that her partner needed to jog to catch up to her.

"Beckett! Hold on. Wait. Kate!" He stopped her by grabbing onto her arm as he forcefully said her first name. She whipped towards him with such fury burning in her eyes he actually took a step back. Stammering under her death-stare, he said, "I-I just…I thought…maybe you want to talk about this?"

"I don't want to talk about this," she said simply before continuing to walk. "There is no need to talk about this; we have a murder to solve."

"But if this case is related to your mother's then…well, first, we need to tell Montgomery."

"No we don't," she responded stubbornly.

"Yes we do. We need to investigate both cases. Maybe we can-"

Kate froze and whipped towards her partner. She approached him both a borderline animalistic expression until she was so close that their toes were almost bumping. With her high heeled boots, they were almost equal height, so she stared directly into his eyes as she spat, "Don't you think I've done that? Don't you think I've looked at every detail, every lead in my mother's case. There's nothing there, Castle; nothing. We need to follow the leads in Coonan's case; that's how we'll find the killer."

Castle swallowed hard. This was clearly a rough subject for her and he couldn't blame her. He couldn't even fathom investigating the murder of one of his relatives let alone rationally following the leads on it. He wasn't sure she—or anyone for that matter—could be objective and that concerned him with regards to the case. Still, given her propensity towards great anger when it came to him, he needed to tread lightly. "Do you think…do you think maybe you just want to let me run with the leads on this-"

Cut him off with a scoff before stalking back out onto the Manhattan streets. "This is my case, Castle."

"It's our case," he countered her. "And as your partner-"

"As your partner," she said, turning back to him. For the first time since the news broke, her expression had softened slightly. "I'm asking you for one day. Give me twenty-four hours to run down the leads on Coonan's case…then we can tell Montgomery how it relates to the others."

Castle stared her down for several moments before conceding with a nod. He didn't like the idea, but knew that she wouldn't back down, so he had to agree; the code of partners mandated it. "Okay, Kate; twenty-four hours."

She nodded in lieu of thanking him aloud and led the way back to their cruiser. "Let's go find out what Anderson and McCreary have uncovered. Maybe…maybe there were witnesses, or some other connection."

"Yeah…it's a shame the brother couldn't have been more of a—what?" Castle asked when he saw his partner freeze abruptly. She could not have stopped faster if she had run into a brick wall. "What is it?"

She turned to him, her face wrought with horror. "The brother…oh god, I didn't…I didn't hear it but…oh, oh my god."

"What? What?!" Castle asked frantically, unable to translate what she said.

She shook her head and ran her hands across her neck. "Dick Coonan…when I was interviewing him, he said how hard it was to lose a family member and I said I understood because I'd lost one too. He asked, 'How did you get over losing her?' but I never told him who died." Meeting her partner's eyes with horror, she sighed out, "Castle…"

"Dick Coonan could be our killer," Castle concluded, his gut beginning to ache. He saw fury and determination flash across his partner's face as she rushed towards their vehicle. Breaking into a dead sprint he was able to head her off and wrestle the keys from her grasp. "No, you're not driving like this."

"Castle!"

"No!" he commanded, feeling as though he was scolding a misbehaving child. "Get on the other side; now." She shot him a scathing look but did as he requested. "Now let's go see what we can learn about Dick Coonan."

* * *

The next hour passed like a blur. Castle and Beckett researched as much as they could about Dick Coonan, but their search didn't reveal much. He was former military and had a history of working with foreign contractors. Other than that, he appeared squeaky clean. Just when she was considering ambushing him at his residence and taking a run at him to see if he'd crack, Kate was shocked to see Coonan returning to the homicide floor. Putting her game-face on, she approached.

"Can I help you with something Mr. Coonan?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, I, ah, thought of something that might help you. I remember my brother having an argument with a guy in the Westies. I saw them a few weeks ago; looked pretty heated. I don't know his name but I thought…maybe I could tell a sketch artist or something?"

Kate slid her hands into her pockets. "Sure, we could do that…or you could just confess."

Coonan blinked at her. "Excuse me?"

Kate lowered her voice and stepped towards him. "You knew. You knew it was my mother who had died. I didn't tell you, but you knew. You were involved in her death just like you're involved in your brother's."

Coonan shook his head and took half a step back from her. He was doing a pretty good job of portraying his confusion, but Kate believed none of it. "Listen, I don't think-"

"No, _you_ didn't think," she countered. "You have no idea who you're dealing with Mr. Coonan. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Hey Beckett I-" Castle rounded the corner from speaking with Anderson and McCreary and froze immediately when he saw Kate speaking with their suspect. Her expression made it clear she was about to pounce, and the blackness in Coonan's eyes made it evident he was as well. Everything happened so quickly, Castle didn't have enough time to react.

Coonan smashed his elbow into a passing female uniformed cop, knocking her off balance. With her stumbling, he easily pulled her service piece from its holster. Coonan then turned to Castle, the next closest body, and shoved the weapon deep into his side. "Nobody move!"

Now alerted through the screams of the downed officer and other onlookers, every cop on their floor had their weapons drawn and trained on Coonan. Kate, the closest, had the killer in her sights, but his head was too close to Castle's to take the shot.

"Nobody move," Coonan repeated. "Or I'll shoot him in the kidney and he'll die a slow, painful death. Is that what you want, _Kate_." He said her name like it was a forbidden pleasure. Castle watched the face of his partner twitch.

"Let him go, Coonan."

"Not a chance; not until I can walk out of here. You don't want me to shoot him, do you Kate? You didn't get to watch your mother die in that alley, but I did. I had her blood on my hands, but if you don't let me walk out of here, your partner's blood will be on yours."

Castle took in a deep calming breath and locked eyes with his partner. "Shoot him, Beckett; take him down."

She shook him off unable to take the shot without risking his life. "Look around you. Think about how this is going to end for you."

"I don't care about me," Coonan said with a laugh. "I just want-"

Coonan's words were torn from him by a primitive cry from Castle. He whipped his head back, cracking it against Coonan's face. This loosened his grip enough for him to twist away. He turned back just in time to see a bloody faced Coonan raising his weapon to shoot, but before his arm reached the right angle, two bullet holes appeared in his chest and he fell to the ground.

Castle turned to see his partner lowering her gun, horror evident on her face. A strangled, "No," escaped her lips as she hurried forward, but Castle caught her around the waist and pulled her away. She struggled against him, but he held her strong.

"No," he told her. "There's nothing you can do."

* * *

Later, after the chaos inside the Twelfth had almost returned to normal, Castle was finally able to search for his partner. Just after the incident, she was pulled into Montgomery's office and they spoke for a long time. In the fray, he'd lost track of her when she was finished. After several moments of searching, he found her outside behind the building sitting on the fire escape. Traditionally, this spot was used for cops sneaking a cigarette, but that moment it was claimed by Kate.

She sat on the third step from the bottom, her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together with her chin resting on top. Castle sat down beside her and remained quiet for a few moments before speaking softly. "I'm sorry, Kate."

"Why?" Her voice was hoarse with emotion, so she cleared her throat. "I should be the one apologizing to you."

"No, it's not your fault; you had no idea that would happen." They sat for another minute before he posed gently, "You want to talk about it." He wanted more than anything to know the story, but only if she was willing to tell it.

She straightened out her elbows and drew her arms in a bit closer to her body. Picking at her thumbnail, she said, "It was January, 1999. Barely a few weeks after Christmas. My mom was a lawyer and she was working late on a case. She was supposed to meet my father and I at a restaurant for dinner…she never showed. We went home, found a detective waiting for us to tell us she'd been murdered. Stabbed in an alley. A random act of gang violence. That's what it was called. But I…I never could believe it."

"That's why you became a cop," he concluded. She confirmed with a nod and he pursed his lips together. Normally, he would find pride in being right, but in this case his victory was too sullied by the sadness of his partner.

"The second I could I started investigating her case. Montgomery caught me in the archives when I was still a beat cop. He never wrote me up…I didn't know why, but he told me later it was because he knew from that moment that I would be a great detective. Great detective." She scoffed and shook her head.

"For the record, you are," her partner informed her. When, after a minute she hadn't continued, he prompted her. "What did you find on your mother's case?"

"Nothing. Endless dead ends. So I had to stop. I had to put it behind me because that case…it took over my life. And then…other things happened. Right around that time my dad…my dad was just coming out of rehab. I had to turn my focus to him. For me. For us. I had to put my mother's case behind me but now…"

He twisted his body so he could look at her more easily. "You could always reopen it. Now that-"

"No, Castle. I can't. It nearly destroyed me. Not knowing who hired Coonan will tear me up, but I know I can't go near that case again—and neither can you." She looked at him, desperation flooding from her gaze. She grabbed his arm and pleaded with him. "You have to promise me, Castle. You'll let it go. Look at me and promise me."

He nodded quickly. "I promise, Kate; I promise."

She turned her body back so she faced forward and pulled her hands down into her lap. "Thanks."

Castle sucked in a long, deep breath and held it a moment before pushing it out between his lips. This case certainly hadn't gone in any direction he could have predicted. "Do you want to be alone?"

He spotted a shrug from her from the corner of his eye and decided it would be best to let her be. He pushed himself off the stairs and walked around behind them to the door he'd left propped open. Just before going inside, he glanced back. From the open backs of the stairs he could see her hunched over, her knees pulled into her chest, her shoulder's shaking; she was crying.

He had never seen her cry before, not that there were many occasions for her to do so on the job. Seeing her that way broke his heart; he just couldn't leave her.

Walking back to the front side of the stairs, he climbed back up into his prior position. Sitting so close to her that their legs were touching, he put an arm around her back and held it for a moment. She didn't react or brush him away, so he used the arm to pull her a bit closer; she came willingly. Though her hands were still covering her face, she leaned her head against his shoulder. Castle used his other arm to circle around and hug her firmly, deciding instantly that he would hold her that way for as long as she needed.

* * *

_A/N: The next chapter will be posted **Saturday April 25th** as Castle returns this Monday! Enjoy!_


	6. Chapter 5

**Five**

Taking a deep breath, Kate Beckett stepped out of the car in the driveway of her father's residence outside of Manhattan. As he had only owned the home for three years, Kate did not consider it her home, but merely the place her father lived. Her home had been an apartment in lower Manhattan filled with books, warmth and memories. Even after her mother's passing she didn't mind going back there; every knickknack made her smile, but when her father went into rehab for his alcoholism they agreed he needed to change everything—including where he lived.

For several moments, Kate stood beside the car and stared up at the front door. She could do this; she could. As a cop, she had delivered every type of news imaginable: good, bad, and in between. She could tell her father that they had found her mother's killer. That a hit man had been hired by an unknown person. That the man who had taken Johanna from them was dead. But how he would react to it was her main point of concern.

When her father left the treatment center, they had a long discussion much more sobering than sixty days without alcohol. She had told him how much his drinking hurt her, how finding him passed out felt like losing another parent. He had cried and apologized for failing her, failing to apply his grief in a less destructive manner. At that point, they had agreed there would be no more secrets between them and Kate vowed to keep that promise because she expected the same from her father. Still, this was one truth she wished she could retain for herself.

He had been doing well; very well. He was back to teaching law part-time. He was back to taking cases. Since the moment he left rehab she never feared he would relapse. But how would he take this news? Would it dredge up all those old feelings of anger in sadness in him just as it had in her? What, if anything, would this knowledge bring him? More questions than answers, certainly, but he had a right to know.

Her mother's killer. The man who had taken her mother's life, not the man responsible for her death. That fact would weigh on her, eat at her, but she knew she had to put it behind her just like she had years ago. For her, Johanna's case had the gravitational pull of a black hole; she barely got out the first time and she feared she wouldn't escape a second.

With one more deep breath, Kate walked up to the front door of her father's home and rang the doorbell. She waited patiently for a moment before the door opened and the smiling face of her father appeared. Due to the stress of his wife's death and his subsequent fight with alcoholism, Jim Beckett appeared much older than his fifty-five years, but that was barely noticeable when he smiled at his daughter. "Katie. This is a surprise."

"Hi Dad." She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

"What brings you out to my neck of the woods?

With a soft smile, she gazed at him. "Dad, there's something I have to tell you…"

Kate Beckett sat at her desk absentmindedly tapping the tip of her pen against the surface. Her elbow rested beside her keyboard, her chin propped up by her first. Theoretically, she was organizing her email inbox as she had received a "Your Mailbox is Almost Full!" message from the system administrator, but in reality she had been staring at the same old message for almost three whole minutes.

Technically, she could have gone home. Her shift was over and she was merely putting in an extra hour or two of catch-up work. She spent so many hours on her cases and subsequent paperwork for said cases that she rarely took the time to do run of the mill tasks like organizing her emails by archiving messages she needed to keep and deleting those that were obsolete.

In all honesty, email maintenance was a task she hated the most. It seemed simple, but for an inexplicable reason she dreaded it. She hated to make the call between an email she might want to keep for a case that was going to trial and one that she would never look at again. Not wanting to be the cop who could not provide something critical to a case, she typically kept more messages than she needed (hence, the frequent appearance of the mailbox-is-full message), but there came a time for brutal archiving and this was it.

From the corner of her eye she spotted a new text message pop up on her phone. Anxious for any excuse to avoid the task at hand for several seconds longer, she scooped up the device and examined the message.

Oh. Well that certainly wasn't as interesting as she'd hoped.

The text was from a man named Marcus whom she had met while on a double date with Lanie the Friday before. In her mind, the date had not gone very well, though she couldn't honestly blame Marcus for that.

In the weeks since Coonan's death and the subsequent resurrection of all her feelings towards her mother's unsolved case, Kate really hadn't been feeling herself. Ironically, she had been most concerned about her father's reaction to the news. All things considered, he was taking it quite well; she was the one who struggled. This was the main reason she agreed to the double date in the first place. Well, the main reason she agreed to the double date was to stop Lanie from pressing her to do so. The secondary reason was that she realized her friend had a valid point; she was in a funk because of what happened—a justifiable funk, but a funk nonetheless—and thus she needed to do something different.

Per Lanie's rules for the double date, Kate would have no input on where they were going; she was just supposed to show up dressed appropriately. Lanie had chosen an Indian restaurant Kate was not exactly a fan of. After their sub-par meal, Kate agreed to go and get another drink with them against her better judgment. In truth, only a miracle would have made Marcus improve in her eyes by that point, but she did give him points for trying hard to have a good time. She had a terrible attitude, she knew that, but Marcus continued to smile and made every effort to converse with her.

Much to her utter surprise, he asked for her number at the end of the evening. She gave it to him, figuring it was the least she could do for him putting up with her sullen tones and bitchy-resting-face stare. On Sunday evening after their date they actually had a somewhat decent texting conversation on and off for about an hour.

Monday evening their conversation continued, but during it Marcus made a political comment that was off-putting to her. He claimed he was joking, though through text that would have been impossible to tell. No matter the case, the words were out there, and they reduced Kate's interest level in him significantly. Even more repelling to her was the fact that two days later, he continued to text her even though she had yet to respond. She was just about to type him a reminder that she was a cop and he should stop harassing her when she was interrupted by Castle.

"Hey Beckett, you coming with us?"

Kate craned her neck around her monitor so she could spot Castle, McCreary and two other men clustered by McCreary's desk. With Montgomery out of the precinct for the afternoon, the boys had been goofing off for the past hour. Kate had been ignoring them and trying to get her own work done, but she had heard their hoots and laughter grow progressively louder. "Where are you going? What's going on?" she asked, trying to figure out what invitation she would be agreeing to.

"We're going to Brady's to watch the game."

The game? Oh, right the Rangers had made it to the NHL playoffs and Game 3 was tonight; presently, the score was tied at 1-1.

Truthfully, hockey was not her favorite sport. Growing up, her father loved baseball and so she did as well. She didn't dislike hockey and certainly preferred it to basketball, but she probably would not have chosen to watch a game on her own. Kate glanced at the clock on her phone. What waited for her at home? Leftover takeout and the mediocre book she had started the night before. Those weren't great options. The cop bar Castle had named was on her way home, so she could stay for a drink or two and then leave if it got too boring or if the boys' rowdiness began to annoy her.

"Sure, why not," she agreed finally.

Their group took two cabs to the bar. Kate was wedged in the back of one between Castle and an officer she wasn't too familiar with, which did not make their drive any quicker. As he made the invitations, Castle bought the first round when they arrived at the bar and the group chose two side-by-side tables across from the large flat-screen television.

The match started out well, with the Rangers scoring within the first few minutes. Unfortunately, their opponents scored a minute later and then two minutes after that. As the men vocalized their jeers towards the television, Kate finished off her beer, ordered a whisky and sat back down to evaluate her life.

What was wrong with her? Marcus was a perfectly nice guy. Really, he was. He even got bonus points for putting up with her when she had far more attitude than was polite. He worked in banking; he had a solid job. He had run the New York City Marathon the year before so he was obviously very athletic and he was handsome as well. Yet, around him she felt nothing. Less than nothing. She didn't even feel the need to smile at his jokes let alone laugh. She was simply…numb.

By the time she was on her third drink, the hockey game had picked up significantly. During the second period the Rangers scored again but their opponents had not, which left the score even at 2-2 as the third period began. Kate found this to be the most eventful period with dozens of shots being taken on each goal, though none were successful.

With her third drink finished, Kate found herself cheering along with the men for the final few minutes of the game. In the end, the Rangers lost; their opponents scored with only seconds to spare in the final period and thus they did not have enough time to recover. As a non-hockey fan and thus objective observer, Kate thought he game as great and the Rangers had put in a valiant effort. Her die-hard-fan cohorts, however, felt differently.

"Whadya say boys? One more round of shots?" a slurring McCreary asked the crowd.

"None for me; I'm done. See you guys tomorrow," Kate told them she slid off her stool. When she turned to leave she faltered. Damn, her head was feeling a little fuzzy; the bartender must have been mixing his drinks on the stronger side.

"Wait; I'll walk out with you." She heard her partner say from behind her. By the time they reached the street he'd caught up and stood beside her. "Good game, right?"

She shrugged. "Yeah I guess; it got exciting at the end. Are you a big Rangers fan?"

He shrugged. "Not summuch, but I'll root for any New York team—except the Jets."

Kate let out a light laugh recalling his vehement argument against the football team. "Right."

"So, ah, share a cab?"

She shook her head. "Nah, I'm just three blocks up—I was just going to walk." She took two steps in a northern direction but stumbled almost immediately over a miscellaneous piece of garbage on the street. Castle was at her side in an instant, catching her under the elbow. "Thanks," she mumbled to him.

"You okay?" The level of concern in his voice made it sound like she'd actually fallen to the ground.

She smiled over her shoulder at him. "I just tripped, Castle." She continued walking only to realize five steps later that he was following her. She eyed him curiously.

"I just thought I'd walk with you for a bit," he defended somewhat sheepishly.

"Castle, I'm a cop; I don't need an escort home."

He patted his belly lightly. "Just trying to walk off one of my beers."

She merely shrugged and continued her walk. If he wanted to tag along—fine.

For almost a full block they walked in a comfortable silence. As they crossed over the next street, Kate looked over at him and said, "Can I ask you something?" He grunted so she continued. "Do you really like hanging out with McCreary?"

Castle shrugged. "He's okay. Why?"

"Well…he's kind of a giant douche bag but you two seemed to hit it off."

"Well I don't know if I'd go that far. He's…okay. I mean, I have no reason to dislike him. If we weren't coworkers I don't know if we'd be hanging out, but we are so…it is what it is. I don't know that I'd go out of my way to hang out with him outside of work too frequently, if that's what you're saying."

Kate nodded, though she said nothing.

"More interestingly," Castle continued, "your comment implies that you think he is a douche bag, but I am not."

She laughed. "No, Castle, you're not a douche bag—you're just an ass."

He gazed at her, bemused. "Oh, there's a difference?"

She met his eye and her expression mirrored his. "Huge difference."

"Well at least I know where I stand."

When they reached her apartment building, Kate slowed her walk until she had stopped in front of her partner. At that moment, as she looked at him, a curious thought came into her mind. Though it was more than likely fueled by the three drinks she'd consumed that evening, she still asked the question: what would happen if I kissed Castle?

Would she feel nothing as she had with Marcus, Brad and those that had come before them? Unlike any of those men Castle made her smile, made her laugh. Granted, she was mostly laughing _at_ him, but it was still a laugh.

Castle was handsome for sure and, deep down, a good man. A good cop. She couldn't say she wasn't attracted to him, but quite honestly she hadn't thought about it until that moment. But there, on the sidewalk in front of her building on an ordinary summer evening she did think about it and she decided she had to know. Would kissing a man she knew well make her feel any differently? Or would it leave her just as numb as the others?

Before any rational part of her brain could talk her out of it, Kate stepped forward, raised herself up on her toes and pressed her lips against Castle's.

Instantly, he stepped back. When she opened her eyes she noted he couldn't have been staring at her with more shock if she'd been wearing a clown wig. He was about to open his mouth and question her—and her sanity—but she refused to let him. Instead, she kissed him again.

That time, he didn't step away, but instead remained still when she lowered herself back down to flat-feet. For a moment, they stared at one another, their breathing a little heavier than normal. Then, by an inexplicable force, they were drawing back together. His mouth closed over hers as his hands landed at her waist and—Oh.

Well.

That was interesting.

Kissing Castle made her feel…well, not numb. Not even close. In fact, she wasn't even in the same zip code as numb. She felt the clench in her chest, the buzz in her brain and the desire burning deep within her as their lips came together. She felt it stronger than she had in months—hell, in years.

When they broke apart, breathless, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that his lips were no longer on hers. It was such a letdown compared to moments earlier. She stepped in again, but he said her name gently. "Kate, wait."

She smiled and let out a breathy laugh. "Why?"

That time, she grabbed the lapels on his jacket and pulled him into her, combing her hands through his hair and all the way down to the back of his neck. She heard him groan into her mouth and that was the only sign she needed; one groan was more than enough.

Still kissing albeit a bit more awkwardly, they stumbled their way to her apartment building. She let them inside and they hurried to the elevator, nearly falling over when the doors they leaned against slid open. The kissed the whole way up to her floor not even noticing they shared the elevator with a teenage girl and her Pomeranian, both of whom appeared appalled.

Kate slammed Castle up against the door to her apartment and continued to kiss him as she attempted to jam the key in the lock. After failing the fourth time she reluctantly tore her lips away so she could see the lock properly. As her trembling fingers dealt with the suddenly tricky handle, Castle's hands skimmed across her waist and he kissed the back of her neck. She let them inside with a laugh.

After flicking on the light in her entry way, Kate grabbed Castle by the jacket sleeve and spun him around so that his back was against the inside of the apartment door. Her fingertips began clawing at the buttons of his shirt, though she only successfully unbuttoned the first two before he grabbed her hip and flipped their positions so she was the one against the door.

Kate's hands traveled from his chest around to his back where she dragged her nails down his spine. Meanwhile, his lips furiously attacked every sensitive spot on her neck as his thumbs caressed her breasts over top of her shirt. Kate lifted her left leg up and threw it over his hip, pulling their torsos closer together. From this point, she clawed at the back of his shirt until it untucked from his pants. She skimmed her fingers along the edge of his belt before dipping them inside and grabbing onto his ass. She pressed her lips against his ear and breathlessly commanded, "Fuck me, Castle."

His body went immediately rigid. He slowly drew himself up to a standing position and gazed down at her emotionless. "What?" he asked quietly.

"I said, fuck me," she growled, grabbing his ass again. "Fuck me, Rick."

"No." Using his hands against her waist he pushed them apart. Her foot landed back on the ground with a thump and he took two steps back, putting a significant distance between them.

Kate blinked at him for a moment before using her hands to comb her hair out of her face. Her heart still hammering in her chest she demanded, "What did you say?"

He blinked at her slowly. "I said no. You're drunk, Kate. Go to bed." He reached out for the door handle and gently nudged her aside so he could open the door wide enough to slip out. As he did so, he said gently, "See you tomorrow."

* * *

_A/N: Next update: Saturday May 2nd. :)_


	7. Chapter 6

_A/N: As you may or may not have seen on my Tumblr, I decided once-a-week updates aren't any fun for anyone, so I'll be updating on Wednesdays and Saturdays from here on out, unless otherwise noted. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Six**

Richard Castle was in trouble. Oh, so very much trouble.

At thirty-eight years old, a grown man with a daughter, he was afraid to go to work that morning. Legitimately afraid, because he wasn't sure what she would do to him; what she would say.

When Beckett kissed him, he could honestly say he was stunned—flabbergasted. He never in his wildest dreams expected her to kiss him like that. In fact, he never thought about them kissing at all. At least, not consciously.

Was he attracted to her? Well, he did have eyes. She was gorgeous beyond description. Even his talents as a writer in another life would fail to accurately describe her beauty. As if that wasn't enough, she was an incredible investigator and an extraordinary person. He had known that fact for a while, but it was confirmed to him without any doubt when he saw how she handled the Coonan case and its aftermath. She was stronger than he ever thought he could be.

When it came right down to it, though, they were partners—coworkers—and the NYPD had very strict rules against interpersonal relationships between detectives (and officers and any combination thereof, for that matter). Though he wasn't one who slept with the rule book under his pillow each night that was one guideline he had chosen to adhere to very early on in his career.

The last thing Castle wanted to do was jeopardize his partnership with Beckett as it was the best he'd ever had. Combining both his partnerships during his days as a beat cop and a detective, Castle had five partners in all. One was horrible, another just so-so, and the other two good. Before meeting Beckett, he would have categorized them as very good and there was certainly nothing wrong with either of them, but after being paired with Beckett everything else seemed to pale in comparison.

On paper, their partnership made no sense. They were separated in age by nearly a decade, which was not the largest generation gap in the history of partnerships, but it certainly put them at different stages in their lives. Their careers had manifested very differently within the NYPD and they came from completely different backgrounds. Yet, somehow, when they were in the field everything clicked.

Her strengths were his weaknesses and vice versa. With very little pre-planning, they could interrogate a subject with a high degree of success, usually alternating their good cop/bad cop roles with little effort. Most surprisingly, they had an uncanny ability to finish each other's thoughts and sentences, a trait that very much amused their coworkers and often earned them a great deal of ribbing, though neither of them seemed to mind.

Castle did not want to give up his working relationship with Beckett for anything and thus he had not allowed any romantic thoughts or feelings for her to enter his conscious mind—until he kissed her. When their lips first met, he was stunned, but then he realized just how wonderful her body felt against his. How warm and soft her lips were in contrast to the heat and fury of her tongue against his.

Suddenly, he wondered how he _hadn't_ thought of her in this way before. My god, she was incredible. That's why he kissed her again. That's why he let her lead him up to her apartment.

And then _it_ happened.

As a worldly man, he had faced the same request from women before (and had happily obliged during many if not all of those instances), but for some reason, those words coming out of the mouth of Kate Beckett hit him like acid to the face. They were wrong; so very wrong.

Kate Beckett was not a woman to treat like a random hookup from a bar. She was not a one night stand he would forget about as soon as he left in the morning. Kate Beckett was a woman to be treasured and explored.

Had she not said those words, he believed there was a possibility they would have slept together that night. Though he rationally knew it was not the best idea, her lips and hands were doing a pretty good job of convincing him otherwise. So, in a way, he was glad her words were the warning that changed the course of his thinking from with his crotch to with his brain.

As he boarded the subway that morning, Castle thought about the best way to convey those feelings to his partner. He reasoning was logical and rational, he knew that, but she would be very, very angry with him. _Very_ angry with him and he wasn't sure she would entertain any explanation from him, no matter how reasonable. At least, not for a little while. Besides, he thought as he rode, perhaps it would be best to have the conversation with her when she wasn't armed.

Walking into the twelfth he felt a few beads of sweat forming at his forehead and muttered a curse under his breath. _Relax, Castle_, he told himself. _She cannot shoot you in the middle of the bullpen_. Casual—just keep it casual.

He spotted her at her desk and took a deep breath. With as much normalcy as he could muster, he strolled past her desk and casually set down a coffee cup beside her computer monitor: a skinny latte with two pumps of sugar-free vanilla; her coffee drink of choice and his chosen peace offering. "Morning Beckett," he said, taking his seat as though nothing had changed between them; as though they hadn't kissed for the first time not twelve hours earlier.

Kate's eyes flicked from her computer screen to the disposable coffee cup and then to her partner. He smiled at her; she turned back to her computer monitor.

Castle sat patiently, not saying another word. He did not want to be too obvious, so he hunched down and pretended to be reading an email from his computer screen, but really he was watching her as best he could. It took almost four full minutes, but he finally saw her hand reach out and take the cup. Exhaling with relief that he wasn't wearing the drink, Castle leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

So she wasn't speaking with him—that was okay. At least she wasn't screaming at him. He could handle a little silent treatment. They would get their chance to talk; she just needed to warm up to him again first.

* * *

It was almost lunchtime before Castle felt safe broaching the subject with her. Anderson and McCreary were bogged down with a double homicide and, as they did not presently have an active case, Castle and Beckett were tasked to visit the workplace of one of the victims and do some standard interviews. Castle allowed Beckett to drive without any protest and thought maybe the car would be the best venue for their conversation. After all, she could hardly assault him while she was driving.

"So," he began, clearing his throat. "About last night…"

Kate's eyes flicked in his direction. "Really?" she asked in a tone indicating great annoyance. "Now?"

"We have to talk about this sometime, Kate," he told her softly. She ignored him. "I just…I just wanted to say that I was sorry, but as your partner—your friend—I respect you too much to, as you so eloquently put it, fuck you."

Kate's upper lip twitched at his comment. She had definitely been tipsy, but the events of the prior evening were fairly clear in her mind. She remembered kissing Castle. She remembered dragging him into her apartment. Most importantly, she remembered how furious she had been with him (and herself) when he'd left so abruptly.

Rather than acknowledge how sweet his sentiments really were, she merely scoffed at him and drummed her fingertips against the steering wheel. "We're not friends, Castle."

"We are friends. Work friends. You've met my daughter and mother. I said hi to your dad that one time he came to take you out to lunch," he explained to her. She said nothing.

Castle furrowed his brow as he watched the traffic ahead of them. They were friends; of course they were friends. Okay, so maybe they didn't really communicate outside of work, but they were partners. They spent every working day together—a situation which by its very nature mandated at least some level of friendship. Though, she did have a somewhat valid point; they rarely spoke about non-work related things unless it was a group discussion in the department. Maybe it was time they changed that.

"Why don't we go to a movie?"

Kate looked over at her partner as though he suggested hopping on a unicorn and flying to Mars. "I think I spend enough time with you as it is."

Castle snapped his fingers and gasped fakely. "Oh that's right—I forgot. Your life has a moratorium on fun."

She chose not to acknowledge this dig, and instead chose a different defense. "I could have a boyfriend."

Castle snorted. "Yeah okay."

"What?" she replied incredulously.

"You don't have a boyfriend." His conclusion was simple and straightforward, just as he would have answered blue if someone asked the color of the sky.

"You don't know that."

"I do."

Even more annoyed she informed him, "No, you don't."

"Okay," he conceded. "Maybe not officially, but I'm ninety-nine percent certain. Wanna know why?" He let a beat go by before ticking off reasons on his fingertips. "First, you wouldn't have kissed me if you did. Second, even if we could excuse your kiss as you being drunk—which, for the record, we cannot because you weren't that drunk—you wouldn't have invited me inside if you had a boyfriend. Third, you don't have a boyfriend because you're…well, you."

Kate slammed on the car brake a bit too abruptly at his words. Her eyes narrowed when she gazed over at him. "What does that mean?"

He smiled slowly at her. "It means, Kate, that I've seen you eat men alive. What sucker would stick around for that?" He laughed heartily at his comment.

Kate grumbled. She would not deny being hard on men—in interrogation, where they deserved it. In relationships she was much softer. Okay, a little bit softer. Well, she _could_ be softer. Castle simply didn't see that side of her because he always saw her at work. They drove another half block before she said pointedly, "Well, you just tried to get involved—what does that say about you?"

His smile grew impossibly wide. "It says that I am no ordinary man."

* * *

"I need to go on a date."

Kate Beckett didn't even bother with pleasantries as she walked into the morgue late that afternoon. She had pawned their interview write-ups off on Castle—further punishment for his behavior the night before (though, admittedly, it was probably undeserved as her behavior had been equally foolish)—and snuck off for some much needed girl talk.

Lanie blinked up at her friend. "Excuse me?"

"I need to go on a date. With a man. Can you set me up?"

The ME stood with one fist at her hip. "What happened to Marcus?"

Kate shook her head. "I need to go out with someone else."

Lanie chuckled lightly. "I don't think so, honey. I'm running out of male friends who will still speak to me."

Kate groaned and stomped one foot in a childish manner. "C'mon Lanie!"

The darker skinned woman folded her arms across her chest. "What's up with you?"

"I just need a date," she said with a shrug.

Lanie's eyes narrowed. "No, something's going on. Ooo!" she proclaimed when she saw a flicker of recognition in her friend's eye. "Something is going on! Dish girl!"

Kate let out a sigh and rounded her shoulders. "It's nothing. It's just…last night I might have asked Castle to fuck me and he turned me down so I need a date."

Lanie's eyes opened impossibly wide. "Whoa—What?! Go back. Start over. You asked Castle to WHAT?"

Kate lowered her eyes and scraped her toe against the cement floor. "You heard me. It was nothing," she mumbled out.

"That is not nothing!" When, after a moment, her friend was still silent, she demanded impatiently, "Well?"

Leaning against one of the empty autopsy slabs to tell her tale, she began, "I…I went out with the guys, had a few drinks….he was walking me back to my apartment and I might have momentarily wondered what it would be like to kiss him and then…things got out of hand. It was a moment of drunken weakness."

Weakness—right. Was that even a strong enough word? She had been an idiot; a complete and total idiot. Castle—she had kissed Castle. Of all people, why did it have to be Castle? Why did it have to be the one person she literally could not avoid?

Once she calmed down from the rage she felt when he dismissed her advances, Kate realized she had never felt so foolish in her life. They were partners; coworkers and crossing the line into lovers simply wasn't done. Yes, outwardly she was angry with Castle, but mostly she was angry with herself. Had he not stopped them, she was sure they would have followed through, and then they would have had to deal with the aftermath of _that_. Honestly, she should have been thanking him for having the presence of mind to say no—but, of course, that was never going to happen.

Her jaw still hanging open with shock, Lanie shook her head. "Yeah, okay. Or you could just admit that you have feelings for him."

Kate let out an incredulous gasp. "Oh my god, Lanie. I do not have feelings for him! I don't even like him."

The ME rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't, so answer me this—why had he been your partner longer than anyone since Royce?"

Kate fought the urge to flinch at the mention of her former partner—the first partner she had after making detective. In her mind, Royce was the end-all, be-all of partners. She could never have a partner better than Royce; or one from whom she learned more. After he retired, her partnerships had been and endless series of disappointments.

She considered each of the morons for a moment before realizing her friend was wrong. "He hasn't been; I was with Henderson for almost a year."

"Ah," Lanie held up her right index finger, "but you asked Montgomery to transfer him at the seven month mark; Castle's made it past that."

Kate pressed her lips together; damn her friend's excellent memory. "Just because I…tolerate him as a partner doesn't mean I have feelings for him."

"Whatever. Just continue your story. You wanted to have wild, crazy, steamy sex with Castle; he said no. Do you know why?"

"It doesn't matter."

From her tone and eye contact evasion, Lanie knew there was more to the story. "I'm curious; indulge me. What did he say?"

Kate let out a stubborn exhale and combed her hair back from her face. She twisted it into a ponytail before dropping her hands to her sides. As a curtain of hair fell back over her face she explained. "He said he respects me too much to do that."

A slow, justified smile crossed Lanie's face. "Ahhh, so he does like you."

"He doesn't like me."

"Um, yeah, he does. He totally likes you."

Kate clicked her tongue. "What is this—the eighth grade?"

"Castle has the maturity of an eighth grader," Lanie pointed out.

Kate nodded, conceding to this. "Somewhat valid point except his daughter is, like, in eighth grade so that's creepy."

Lanie's eyebrows rose. Due to his maturity level (or lack there-of) she sometimes forgot Castle's real age. "Is she really in eighth?"

"It might be seventh—whatever Lanie, I want a date." Kate repeated her original purpose for arriving at the morgue that afternoon.

Lanie shook her head and casually took a seat at her desk. Could she have set her friend up? Probably, but it didn't feel right. She felt her friend needed to explore the feelings she had for her partner and was so obviously denying. By setting her up with someone else, Lanie would be aiding in this delusion and that was something she wanted no parts of. "Sorry, no can do. Why don't you try the internet?"

Kate's brow furrowed. "For what? Porn?"

Lanie laughed. "If you're horny, sure. But I actually meant one of those online dating sites."

An expression of pure horror crossed Kate's face. "Creeps and perverts? No, thanks."

The ME rolled her eyes at her friend; sometimes being a cop and seeing the worst of human beings every day really did seem to poison her. "My cousin married a man she met online—he is neither a creep nor a pervert."

Kate shrugged. "Then she got lucky."

"Whatever. Can we go back to the part where Castle clearly likes you and you're in denial about it?"

"The man doesn't like me. When has he ever shown anything that would indicate that he likes me?"

Lanie let out a laugh. "I assume you're looking for an answer other than 'all the time.'"

Kate waved a dismissive hand at her friend. "He does not."

"Yeah. He does."

"No."

"He does, Kate. Really. You should see how he looks at you. That man would move mountains for you."

"No…" She said, though that time she sounded more concerned than convinced.

Lanie shrugged, giving up on their one-sided argument. "Fine. Think what you want to think, but for the record I think you should give Castle a shot."


	8. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"I cannot believe you did that!"

Clouds of red fury blurring her vision, Kate Beckett nearly walked past her own desk. When she realized her mistake, she whipped around and slapped down the two manila folders she carried. They landed with such force that a few other papers on her desk skittered over her keyboard, but she didn't notice. Her focus was on the man who trailed behind her, not even appearing remorseful for what he had done. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Still confused by this level of rage from her, Castle raised his arms and opened his palms wide. "What do you mean wrong with me? I'm doing my job."

"No," she spat, "you're doing _my_ job."

His brow furrowed and he shook his head at her. "What does that even mean? We have the same job!" She was blowing this completely out of proportion. Did she have a right to be slightly annoyed with him? Probably. But taking over the interrogation was hardly a felony act. It wasn't as though he interrupted her mid-sentence. She wasn't getting anywhere with the guy so he took a stab at it. That, after all, was what partners were for.

"You undermined me in front of a suspect, Castle."

"What?!" He proclaimed. "How did—I didn't even—I don't even-" He huffed out a short breath. Damn, now she had him all riled up. Okay, Castle, he told himself. Just take a deep breath and think about what you're going to say for a few seconds before you say it.

Staring over at his partner, he took note of her nostrils flaring with each irritating breath she pushed out. _Tread softly, Castle_, he coached himself. "I'm sorry if you think I undermined you, but that wasn't my intention. I was just trying to take a crack at the guy." Of course, that crack had failed miserably. Probably if he'd been successful she wouldn't be this mad. Then again, given how short a temper she had with him over the prior week he doubted she would have given him a break even then.

Kate scoffed and stalked over to him. "You're always doing this! Every single time. You're just so—ugh!" she threw her hands up and made a gesture like she wanted to ring his neck.

Okay, he decided, this wasn't about the interrogation. Well, not _just_ about the interrogation. That was it, wasn't it? She was just looking for a reason to yell at him because she was still mad about _the incident, _as he was referring to it.

"Look, Kate, if you want to be pissed at me that's fine, but at least be honest about why you're pissed at me," he told her wisely. Her brow wrinkled and he realized he'd actually caught her off guard so he added in a quieter voice, "This is about the other night at your apartment, isn't it?"

Her jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? Are you actually kidding me?"

"No."

"You just! I can't even! UGH!" she growled at him before storming out of the bullpen. As she moved, a few lower-level officers noticeably leapt out of her way, obviously not wanting to be accidentally caught in her tornado of fury.

Castle sighed and lowered his chin. She just needed time—that was all. She would walk it off, cool down, and then possibly come back and apologize.

Right—apologize. Since when did Kate Beckett ever do that?

Shaking his head, he turned back towards his seat and muttered, "Well, that could have gone better."

"You can say that again."

Castle jumped when the voice of the captain interrupted his internal-turned-external thoughts. He looked up and glanced around the immediately area to find that Montgomery wasn't the only one taking in their little show. In fact, if he was not mistaken, more people were watching their argument than had paid for tickets to his mother's last off-off-off Broadway show. Though, that wasn't exactly a fair judgment since at its largest performance, the play only had an audience of four. On the homicide floor, at least half a dozen officers gazed in Castle's direction with ill-concealed smirks. McCreary was outright laughing. Castle felt his face flush as a feeling of foolishness set in.

So he and Kate had an argument—so what? On the Richter scale, this was a fairly mild one. They weren't all that loud and it lasted all of a minute; they'd had larger spats over deciding who would drive the squad car! Still, it was rare that one of them actually stormed out during these debates. Usually, they were able to work it out or if not retreat silently to their desks until one reluctantly folded to the other's opinion.

"Castle?" Montgomery said gently. "A word?"

Castle grumbled under his breath as he stood and followed Montgomery to his office. Great. She'd gotten him in trouble with the principal. Why was it that the pretty girls always ran off quick enough not to get in trouble leaving him to take all the blame? Twenty years later and he was still repeating the same mistakes he made in high school.

Once in his office, Montgomery shut the door behind them both. He gestured for Castle to sit, and he did in the guest chair. Seated behind his desk, the captain asked, "You wanna tell me what that was about?"

Simple. Castle knew he needed to keep his explanation simple. "We just weren't able to get the confession, sir. We have enough evidence for the charges to stick, though."

Montgomery ran his fingertips over his mustache. "Well that's good, but I don't think I was talking about the case. Detective Beckett seemed unusually angry with you; something tells me that's about a little more than you stepping on her toes during the interrogation."

Castle cleared his throat; the captain didn't know the half of it. "She's, ah, she's just a little annoyed with me over something that happened a few days ago."

The captain's brows rose halfway up his forehead. "A _little_ annoyed?"

"A lot annoyed," Castle corrected, but that was all the information he would give his superior. What was he supposed to stay? She wanted to have sex with me, I turned her down, and now I think she might kill me in my sleep.

Though he was now continually faced with a certain amount of animosity from her, Castle knew he had made the right decision that night in Kate's apartment. She was a wonderful and amazing woman, but sleeping with her like that would have been wrong. He knew it; she knew it and they needed to move past it. Granted, that was easier said than done.

How could he move past it when all he could think about were her lips? They had hardly entered his thoughts before, but now that he'd had a taste of her he knew one would never be enough. It was like being given one bite of the sweetest, most delectable dessert in the world only to have it snatched away before it could be finished, savored.

Staring across the desk at her was pure torture. Her lips were so pink and full. Knowing the softness they contained made his skin itch. He would try and distract himself by forcing him to look not at her lips, but at something else, though in a way that was worse. Her eyes, her cheeks, even her forehead exuded beauty. She was exquisite. Not to mention smart, savvy, and damn sexy. And she…would make one hell of a character in a book, wouldn't she?

Montgomery's voice pulled him back to reality. "Well I suggest you fix it, Castle—and quick. The NYPD doesn't have time to play referee to disputes between partners. Unless, of course, you'd like to request a transfer?"

Castle sat up a bit straighter. "No, sir. Beckett is my partner and, despite her anger, I'm pretty sure she wants to keep it that way. I'll apologize to her—again."

* * *

Since they were still officially on shift, Castle knew Beckett hadn't gone far. He checked the break room, the stairwell and even the alley out back, though she wasn't in any of the places she usually disappeared to. Ultimately, he found her in the basement gym working over a punching bag.

Damn.

Castle could not honestly recall if he had ever seen her in the NYPD gym before. They had never worked out together, but he thought he remembered seeing her there once or twice early on in their partnership. If that was the case, his brain clearly had not accurately remembered how good she looked in workout attire.

Wearing ass-hugging calf-length spandex pants and an athletic cut tank top with her hair in a high ponytail, Kate Beckett was the epitome of sexy. The slight sheen of sweat atop her brow and the muscular display of her triceps and shoulders as her arm snapped forward and retracted from the bag made Castle swallow hard. Even the comical sight of her oversized red boxing gloves did nothing to detract tingling sensations from speeding directly towards his groin.

He knew he should have gone directly to the men's locker room and hopped in a cold shower, but against his better judgment he approached her. At that midday hour the gym was almost empty so he saw no harm in having a little fun with her. Maybe it would make her forget she was furious with him.

Castle approached from the opposite side of her punching bag and held on to the back side of it. "Great job; you killed it," he told her.

She didn't even look at him; she merely continued punching. "Leave me alone, Castle."

Knowing for the sake of their partnership he had to be the bigger person, he craned his head around the side of the bag to look at her. "I came to apologize, okay? It was not my intention to upset you; I was just trying to break the guy." He informed her. Her eyes flicked in his direction, but she didn't stop punching the bag with even intervals. After a beat went by, he continued. "And I also think we should talk about what happened in your apartment the other night because you're clearly still upset about that."

"I'm not upset," she growled.

"Yeah, okay."

"And I don't—want—to—talk—about—it," she said, punching the bag with every break in speech. Finally, for emphasis, she stood back and roundhouse kicked the hanging object.

Castle grunted when the bag slammed unexpectedly hard into his chest. "Jesus, Kate; did you run out of Midol this morning, or what?"

She glared at him, arm hanging limp at her sides as she breathed heavily. "Dick," she accused.

Castle fought a laugh. "Okay, you don't want to talk, that's fine, but I have some things to say, and I'd like you to listen." He waited for her to rebut; when she didn't, he continued. "The other night at your apartment we had…what I'll call a moment."

A blip of laughter escaped Kate's lips and she rolled her eyes.

"We did," he insisted. "We had a moment—a nice moment. We kissed…among other things," he said with a not-so-hidden smirk. "And yes, I stopped things from going any further—that's on me, but, Kate, I didn't stop us because I didn't want to; I stopped us because the situation was wrong; the timing was wrong. I wasn't rejecting you. You understand that right?"

She averted her eyes, and said nothing. He took a step closer and continued, "I'd be happy to take you on a date—a real date. Is that what you want? Dinner? A movie? Dinner and a movie?"

She gazed at him sharply under her brow. "I'd rather snack on broken glass."

Castle lifted his gaze to the sky in sheer defeat. There was just no winning with her! If he even thought there was an ounce of truth in her statement he would have walked away, but he knew there wasn't so, like a true masochist, he continued. "Fine, Kate; whatever. You don't want to have a serious conversation about this, that's fine, but just for the record this is what happens to people who bottle up all their emotions behind walls guarded by barbed wire and grenades. When you finally let a little bit of that emotion out it comes out all warped and crazy!"

Kate growled at him and he watched her shoulders and neck tense.

Okay, so it probably was not the best idea to indirectly call her crazy. Particularly not when she was wearing boxing gloves. Then again, the gloves were definitely preferable to a gun.

She took one swing at him and he ducked. Backing away quickly he said, "C'mon Beckett." She swung again and he dodged. "Beckett!"

"Come back here!" she demanded somewhat foolishly.

"No," he said, seeking safety on the other side of a weight bench. "I'm not going to fight you."

"Why not!?" she demanded.

"Uh…because we're not teenagers and this isn't a school yard?" he quipped. Despite his comment (or, perhaps, directly because of it) she swung at him again. That time, he saw it coming and was able to catch her forearm and twist it behind her back like she was a suspect he was cuffing. She bucked against him, but his other arm looped around her waist, holding her firm. "Stop trying to hit me," he growled into her ear. He held her for ten seconds and then released her.

"Fine!" She whipped around so that she faced him and could see any oncoming attacks. Using her teeth. She loosened the wrist restraints on her gloves and tossed them aside. "You don't want to fight? Let's…let's wrestle instead."

"Um, why?" he inquired, his tone clearly indicating he thought she was growing crazier with each passing second.

"Because!"

"Because why?" he retorted. Then, it dawned on him. He stepped over the weight bench as he spoke, "Oh I see—you're just trying to get out your sexual tension, right? Wrestling is kind of like sex…with clothes on."

Honestly, he wasn't sure what made him bait her that way. In the state she was in, it was essentially the same as poking an angry grizzly with a stick and then dangling fresh meat in its face just a bit too far out of reach. Her chest began to heave with how heavily she was breathing and how her heart was racing. Oh yeah, she was definitely going to try and kill him.

"You are," she spat, "without a doubt the most frustrating, ignorant, complete and total ass of a partner I have ever had!"

"Ah," he smiled, holding up a finger. "But I am still your partner, right?"

"Huh?" Her response was not eloquent, but it did indicate her fury level had lessened slightly.

"That's the other reason I came to see you, Kate. Montgomery witnessed our little argument and he's none too pleased. He implied that if we don't start getting along then he's going to terminate our partnership. That's not what you want, is it Kate?"

She lowered her eyes and scraped her sneaker against the gym mats. "Well, I really don't have the time to break in a new partner so no, I guess not."

Castle smiled inwardly at her evasive answer. "Good, because I don't want that either. And if you don't want to go out on a date with me that's fine; I respect that. But we need to call a truce, okay? Let's put this whole thing behind us." He extended his hand out to her as a peace offering.

Tentatively, Kate pressed her hand into hers. When they shook, she repeated, "Truce."

"Great!" he proclaimed. Then, before she could pull her hand back, he strengthened his grip on it and used it to pull her arm towards him. She was caught so off-guard that her whole body tumbled into his and she pressed her free hand against his bicep to steady herself.

"What was that!?"

"Oh," he said, holding her hand firmly in hers, "I just thought I'd help you with that whole…unresolved sexual tension thing."

She swallowed hard as she looked up at him, their noses all but bumping together. "Oh?"

"Yeah."

"H-how are you going to do that?"

Castle smiled wider at how her voice cracked on the first word of her question. "I'm going to kiss you."

"You can't kiss me."

"Why not?" he asked, his voice softer as he lowered his chin. That time, their noses did bump together. "Afraid you'll like it?"

Her jaw dropped and her nose wrinkled with offense. "Not a ch-"

Castle's mouth crushing over hers cut off his speech. Honestly, he half expected a knee to his groin, but was most grateful it never came. Instead, she leaned into their kiss as her fingertips curled around his arm. As Castle slid his free hand under her jaw, his other hand loosened and she took the opportunity to push herself from his embrace, abruptly ending their kiss.

Their gazes held together for several moments before a noise at the opposite end of the gym pulled both their attentions away. Castle looked to his left and realized the sound came from an officer entering the gym and slamming the door to the men's locker room a bit too hard behind him. Other than him, the gym was empty, so no one had seen their kiss; thank goodness.

Castle was in the process of turning his eyes back to his partner when he felt a sharp pain in his bicep. Instinctively, he yelped and put his hand over the tender spot. Looking back to his partner he realized she'd punched him.

"That," she said, "was for kissing me."

He grumbled under his breath as he rubbed the sore spot. Okay, she hadn't hit him that hard. More so, he was startled. Still, he couldn't help but grin as he watched her leave. She had kissed him back and that certainly had to count for something.


	9. Chapter 8

**Eight**

"This is Detective Kate Beckett requesting emergency response!" Her voice was breathless and frantic. Her hands, slick with sticky crimson, could barely grip onto the radio. A fresh tremor of terror shot through her as she watched the body of the man before her shudder into shock. "We have an officer down; I repeat we have an officer down!"

* * *

_Six Hours Earlier_

The day began as ordinary as any other. Better than ordinary as far as Richard Castle was concerned. That day, he had the noon-to-midnight shift. It was certainly far from his favorite but it came with two main benefits. First, he did not have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Second, it afforded him the opportunity of eating breakfast with his daughter.

That morning she was particular chatty, excited about getting to see her grandmother after school. Due to his shift, Castle needed someone to meet his daughter when she came home, feed her dinner, and make sure she completed her homework (though the last one was the least necessary of the three, as he had never once in her twelve years had to remind her to do her homework.) Typically, this task fell onto one of the several babysitters he kept on his rolodex. That night, however, fresh off yet another failed play, his mother had agreed to the task. Since her rate was significantly cheaper (namely: free), he agreed easily.

After sending her off to school excited for her spelling test (how she ever got that in her DNA, he would never know), Castle ran to the corner bodega to pick up groceries for that night's dinner. He made his way to the precinct just before eleven to get his workout in before his shift started. Promptly at noon, he arrived at his desk and greeted his partner with a hello. She echoed his sentiments.

Nearly a month had passed since they declared their truce and things were almost back to normal between them. They were, as Castle liked to think of it, their new, post-kiss normal. They still argued, but had yet to have a knock-down-drag-out like they had the day of Montgomery's scolding. They still finished each other's sentences. They still interrogated in an uncanny, dance-like manner. But things had still changed.

Now, every look, every innocent brush of their hands together was fraught with double-meaning. Did she mean to touch his arm in the car? Oh, no; she was just reaching for her coffee cup. Did he mean to lean in closer to her as they stood by the murder board so he could smell the cherry-vanilla scent in her hair? Of course not. (Except absolutely yes.)

Castle hoped that after another month went by they would be able to look back and laugh about it. Well, maybe not laugh about it, but smile, roll their eyes and know they were better off. Partners; just partners.

By mid-afternoon Castle had finished all the paperwork from the prior day's arrest and was contemplating some sort of snack when he received a call from McCreary requesting backup on an arrest he and his partner, Anderson, were making. Castle challenged Kate to rock-paper-scissors for driving rights; he lost and fifteen minutes later they were on their way towards southern Manhattan.

It was during their drive that they heard the call on the radio. All available units were requested to respond to the exact address McCreary had dispatched them to. "What the hell is going on?" Castle asked his partner rhetorically. She shrugged and stepped on the gas a bit harder.

On the corner of a non-descript street near Battery Park, pandemonium ran rampant. Three cruisers plus Anderson and McCreary's detective car formed a barrier between the street and a building, which housed suspects who evidently possessed an armory larger than some small nations. Castle and Beckett pulled on their vests and joined their fellow detectives from the twelfth in the firefight. They didn't even get a chance to ask what was going on; they simply had to join in and attempt to end the shooting.

Kate wedged herself in the V formed between the open driver's door and the windshield of a cruiser while Anderson, the taller of the two, gauntleted his fists together atop the roof of the navy blue sedan. Though it felt like hours, she knew probably only a few minutes had passed before she emptied her clip and needed to refill. With so many officers firing, she felt she could take a few minutes to observe what she could and be a little more conservative with her bullets. She searched the boarded up windows and openings to the building in front of them until she spotted movement. Training her gaze, she put three succinct shots into the gap. As the enemy fire seemed to lessen, she felt she had dropped one of the suspects.

Just as she began searching for her next target, Kate heard a sickening series of sounds from behind her: a squish, a slap, and a gurgle. Dropping into a crouch, she turned around to see Anderson stumbling backwards, his left hand pressed to his neck, crimson fluid flowing between his digits.

"No," Kate uttered a strangled gasp of horror. She dropped her weapon and duck-walked towards him, clamping her hand down overtop his. "Officer down! Officer down!" she shouted, though her voice wasn't heard above the sound of gunfire.

"You're going to be okay, John," she assured him. He stared up at her, his eyes wide and full of terror. "You're going to be okay, just take slow, deep breaths."

Kate looked down and noticed she could no longer see the contrast of her pale skin against his dark; both their flesh was almost completely obscured by blood. "Keep the pressure on, okay? Keep the pressure. I just need to…"

She turned and dove into the squad car, keeping low to conceal herself from the bullets coming through the now shattered windshield. She grasped for the radio, but it fell from her hand. On the second try, she got it and held the transmitter to her lips.

"This is Detective Kate Beckett requesting emergency response!" Her voice was breathless and frantic. Her hands, slick with sticky crimson, could barely grip onto the radio. A fresh tremor of terror shot through her as she watched the body of the man before her shudder into shock. "We have an officer down; I repeat we have an officer down!"

Tossing the radio across the car, Kate returned to Anderson's side. She clamped her hand tightly around the wound, but it didn't matter; she couldn't help him. His body trembled and jerked and his eyes rolled back into his head. He managed a few more rattling breaths before going completely still.

When she felt his pulse disappear from beneath her fingertips, a single tear escaped Kate's eye. She had watched others die before, though all of them had been suspects; none had been a fellow officer. Another horrifying first for her was actually feeling the life bleed out of someone; it was a feeling she hoped never to repeat.

Though she knew it was fruitless, Kate's hand remained on Anderson's neck wound for several moments. Soon, the shooting died down, but she didn't take much notice; she couldn't take her eyes off the now placid body of her long-time colleague. It was only the voice of her partner that managed to rouse her.

"Beckett? Beckett! Kate!"

"Here," she called out hoarsely, letting her hand slide off the body as she stood slowly. Above the top of the car she saw her partner hurrying to her. When he rounded the back corner of the vehicle horror exploded across his face.

"Oh god Kate…the blood! What-"

"'s not mine," she told him with a sniff.

At her words, he turned his eyes towards the ground and took a step back. "Anderson, oh god is he-"

"He's gone," she confirmed with a nod.

"What's going—holy shit," McCreary proclaimed when he saw the scene on the other side of his cruiser. "What the fuck happened?"

"He was shot, you idiot!" she spat at him. "What the hell were you guys doing here? What was going on?"

"They…they ambushed us. We had no idea they'd be armed. I mean, we thought that-"

"Well you were wrong," Kate spat at the younger detective.

"Okay, Kate; okay. C'mon." Castle reached out his hand and grabbed onto her sleeve. He gently guided her around Anderson's body and back towards their vehicle. By the time they arrived, her whole body was shaking. He sat her down on the passenger side of the car and crouched down so he could look at her face. "Are you okay Kate? I mean, are you injured?"

She shook her head as a few more tears spilled. She instinctually brought her right hand up to brush them away, but then recoiled in horror when she discovered the maroon encrusted substance. Castle stepped in and brushed her cheeks with his thumbs. "Just sit here, okay?" he told her gently. "I'm going to get you cleaned up."

* * *

Castle had never lost a colleague in the line of duty before. He'd heard of cops dying, of course; there was a wall memorializing them at every precinct, but no on-duty officer had died at the ninth during his tenure there. Thus, when they returned to the homicide floor of the twelfth, he wasn't sure how to act.

Traditionally, in times of stress, humor became his coping mechanism, but he understood that in certain situations most people found humor offensive. Death of a coworker was one of those situations. Thus, he busied himself by writing up an incident report and tending to his partner, who hadn't spoken a word since the incident.

The day progressed with a somber cloud above it. Shortly after five, Castle offered to go and get Kate something to eat for dinner, but she refused; saying she wasn't hungry. Refusing to let her starve, he retrieved her favorite granola bar from the vending machine and put it in front of her with a bottle of water.

As they had been involved in the shooting, Montgomery relieved them both from the rest of their shift at six p.m., telling them to go home, get some rest, and come back the next day. Several of the men, McCreary included, decided to go to Brady's and toast a drink in Anderson's honor. The bar was, after all, the late man's favorite. Castle decided to tag along and, much to his surprise, Beckett did as well, though she did so silently.

At the bar, most men ordered beers and wings. Castle managed to talk his partner into sharing an order of mild ones. She ate three before giving up, but he considered that a win; at least she'd eaten a little bit.

The men continued to toast their fallen comrade, trading stories about great arrests he'd made or funny things he'd done. In truth, Castle enjoyed the celebration; he could only hope that one day he would receive similar treatment. However, as the eight o'clock hour neared he could tell his partner was over the event.

"C'mon," he said, nudging her arm with his elbow. "I'll walk you home."

They made the three block trek silently. When she unlocked the door into her apartment building's lobby, he followed her inside, not really sure what he was doing, but not wanting her to be alone. Hell, after everything, he didn't want to be alone. True, his mother and daughter were at his apartment, but he didn't want to face them yet. He couldn't worry Alexis by telling her a detective had died in the line of duty and he knew his mother wasn't exactly a fan of the dangerous aspect of his job. Even if they could accept that, they could never understand what it was like; not the way she could.

When she still hadn't spoken by the time they arrived at the door to her actual apartment, he asked her gently, "Are you okay?"

She gave him a look over her shoulder that clear indicated she and "okay" weren't even in the same galaxy.

"Yeah, I know but…do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Yeah. I don't know."

She unlocked her apartment, dropped her keys onto the table nearest the door and kicked off her shoes. She turned to face him just as he shut the door behind them. "It's just…I know the risks with what we do. I get it, I really do. We face dangerous situations every day. But you don't think…you figure hey, I did everything right today. I followed safety protocols. I wore my vest, I called for backup; I'll be fine. But…Anderson had backup. He had his vest on, but that didn't matter."

She shook her head bitterly. "He was shot, and he died and…and he…he was standing r-right be-beside m-me."

"Hey, hey," Castle sighed as her body was overtaken by sobs. He stepped forward and gathered her up in his arms. He pulled her face into his chest and rested his chin atop her head. "It's okay, Kate; you're okay."

She slid her arms around him until her hands met behind his back. She grasped both wrists and pulled her body in line with his. Normally, tears would make her run and hide, shy away from anyone who could see her weakness, but with him she didn't care. She felt better with his arms around her, so she stayed and clung to him tighter as he whispered gentle things to her.

Castle's hands skimmed across her back for the better part of five minutes before her sobs quieted. When her breathing became more even, she lifted her head so that her chin landed in the crook of his neck and she could give him a proper hug. As she pulled her head back their cheeks brushed together and she stalled; they were close, so very close.

Slowly, testing the waters, she pressed her lips against his jaw, feeling the stubble of his beard beginning to return. She moved her head back another inch and pressed her lips against the center of his cheek. Then, with another inch, the corner of his mouth.

She could feel his breath, hot against her lips. His fingertips, curled tightly in the center of her back. His nose brushing against hers. She wanted him. So much. Much more than she ever thought she could.

Her hand sliding up to rest on his shoulders, she pressed her mouth against his. He didn't pull away. Instead, he drew her in—all the way in.

They had been here before—literally in almost that exact spot, but this time was different. Neither was intoxicated; they were both fully aware of what they were doing. In that moment they weren't partners. They weren't coworkers. They were two grieving people seeking comfort, together.

Castle brought his hands up to skim beneath her jaw as their kiss deepened. His mouth was hard and wet against hers and she couldn't get enough. She wanted to feel his lips on her throat, her breasts—every inch of her skin.

Her hand still atop his shoulders, she turned him a hundred and eighty degrees so she could guide the way back to her bedroom. They bumped into a table and the edge of her sofa, but neither seemed to notice; they were far too occupied with each other's lips.

By the time they crossed the threshold of her bedroom both their shirts were half unbuttoned. Kate flicked on the light switch by the door on instinct and pushed Castle into the room. He stumbled at the force of her move and caught the edge of the bed to right himself. Locking eyes with her, he finished unbuttoning his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. Then, he reached out and did the same with hers.

When she stood in just her bra, the smile she gave him was almost shy; he loved it. She reached out behind her and turned the light off. Not a moment later he stepped around her and flicked the light back on. She eyed him curiously, but his gaze remained steady.

Oh. He wanted the light on. Well, she was okay with that.

After giving him an imperceptible nod, Kate reached out and grabbed his t-shirt, dragging him into her. Their lips collided just a moment before they tumbled on to the bed—together.

* * *

_A/N: Well, after that-ahem-climax I'm going to make you guys wait an extra day for the update - Sunday, May 10th. I will be at comic con on Saturday, though sadly Nathan Fillion just canceled his appearance there, but that's ok-there are others I want to see._


	10. Chapter 9

_A/N: Hi guys! Thanks for being patient and waiting an extra day for your update. Comic Con was fun. I enjoyed meeting James &amp; Oliver Phelps (Fred &amp; George Weasley) and Michael Rooker ( TWD &amp; Guardians of the Galaxy). I also thought Hayley Atwell (Agent Carter) was excellent and I now want to go back and watch that show because of her._

_Now on to the chapter!_

* * *

**Nine**

Kate Beckett awoke the next morning and opened her eyes slowly. As the haze of sleep drifted away, her surroundings came in to focus. She was in her own bed, naked. And alone. She pushed herself up to rest on one elbow to enable a better view of the room. At the foot of her bed, a pile of clothing was gathered. Her clothing, discarded the night before. If she was not mistaken each item was folded neatly. Looking around, she saw no other clothing strewn about, which meant he was gone.

Castle. She had slept with Castle.

Twice.

Given their near coupling from a month prior, the subsequent kiss in the gym and monumental sexual tension between them it was not shocking to her that they ended up between the sheets. More so, it seemed inevitable. Rolling back against her pillow, Kate's eyes drifted towards the empty side of the bed as she let out a long exhale. Sex with Castle had been…nice. Better than nice, actually. Given how disastrous Castle's mouth was in most situations, it was pleasantly surprising to her how useful it could be in others.

Though she loathed admitting it, sleeping with Castle had actually been exactly what she needed the night before. What was it about funerals, or in this case wakes, that made people fall into bed when they otherwise wouldn't? Perhaps, she rationalized, it was because grieving people craved reminders of being alive, of living life to the fullest, and what said that better than sex?

Knowing her alarm would be going off any moment, Kate rolled out of bed and shuffled her way to the bathroom. She absentmindedly walked to the shower, cranked the water all the way on hot and then walked back to the sink to grab her toothbrush. When, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of something on the mirror, she froze in surprise. There, in the dead center of the frame, was a yellow stickie note. On it, clearly scrawled in her partner's hand, "You don't snore when you sleep; good to know. See you later –C."

Still curious, she pulled the note off the mirror. Oddly, the question forefront in her mind was, "Where the hell did he find the stickie notes?" As far as she was aware, she did not have any lying around her apartment where they would easily be seen. Did he carry stickie notes with him in his pockets?

Shaking her head, she let the note flutter into the trash before she stepped underneath the shower spray. As the water cascaded down over her, so did the memories from the night before. Feverous kisses and hot breath on skin. Hands gripping her hips and running through her hair. His strong, taunt body on top of and then underneath hers.

_Slow down there, Kate_, she chastised herself, _or you're going to have to turn the water to "cold."_

As she exited the shower, the next dose of reality hit her. She needed to get dressed and ready for work. Work—where she would see Castle. Sit across from him at their adjoined desks. Sit beside him in their squad car. All, _after_ they had slept together.

Were they ready for this? Was she?

Her mind buzzing with a dozen different scenarios—many of them ending very poorly—Kate decided what she needed desperately was a little bit of girl time. Preferably before she entered the twelfth and had to formulate words to say to Castle.

Kate sped her morning routine just enough to make it to the morgue when Lanie began her shift. She walked into the chilled basement room, coffee cup in hand, and found it to be mercifully empty of bodies (alive or dead) save her friend. Thank god.

"Oh sweetie," Lanie greeted her with a sympathetic expression and a hug. "I heard about Anderson; I'm so sorry. I know you really liked him. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

Kate blinked at her. There was no sense wasting time on pleasantries. "I slept with him."

Lanie's eyes widened. "Anderson?"

"Wha—no." Kate shook her head. "Castle."

Lanie's jaw dropped an inch. "Castle."

"Yes."

"You had sex with Castle?" she repeated the question just to clarify that she had the information right.

Kate bobbed her head. "Yes."

"When!?"

"Last night."

A slow smile crossed Lanie's face and she folded her arms across her chest. "Damn girl."

Kate felt her cheeks heat and she pulled her coffee cup to her lips to mask some of her embarrassment. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're kind of proud and jealous at the same time."

Lanie let out a light laugh; Kate had nailed her emotions exactly. "I am. So how was it? My god, you two must have gone at it like crazy!" As she was more of a "Let's enjoy the moment" girl than a "wait and see" one like Kate, Lanie had not had many experiences with put off releases of long-built sexual tension. The few she had gave her just enough knowledge to realize that Kate and Castle's coupling could have neared atomic bomb detonation status.

Kate smiled gently and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "No, it wasn't like that—not the first time." She paused when she saw her friend mouth "first time" with wide eyes. Laughing, she continued. "It was…he was actually really sweet."

"Castle?" Really?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Why do you sound shocked?"

"I dunno. It's just…Castle." Lanie scrunched up her nose. "He could have been a bumbling mess with no clue."

Kate smiled. She could definitely see this being the case. Fortunately, she thought as she replayed one particularly _talented_ moment of his in her mind, it was not. "No, no he definitely knew what he was doing."

"Damn girl." Lanie laughed. "Look at you smiling!"

Embarrassed, Kate tilted her chin downward. "Yeah well…"

"So…is this a thing now?"

"Oh, I don't think so…I mean, I don't know. I'm kind of avoiding him," she confessed to her friend.

Lanie immediately rolled her eyes. Of course. "Do you want it to be a thing?"

"Wha—ah, I, um, I dunno. I really…I'm not-"

"Kate," Lanie cut off her friends ridiculous and school-girl-crush level stammers. "I didn't ask if you wanted to marry the man… sheesh. Let's start with something simpler: do you want to sleep with him again? Or was this just a once and done thing?"

"I don't know—I." Kate paused and thought for a moment. Then, she shook her head as her thoughts were still far too jumbled. "Really—I don't know."

"Then," Lanie concluded wisely. "That's probably the first thing you should figure out."

* * *

Walking into the bullpen, Kate froze almost immediately. Castle was already at his desk. How the hell had that happened?

Oh. Right. She was almost half an hour later than usual because she'd been hiding in the morgue with Lanie.

But it was fine. It was totally going to be fine. She just had to take a deep breath, square her shoulders and walk to her desk like this was any ordinary morning. Except. Oh, damn. Anderson wasn't coming in this morning, was he? As most of her attention had been focused on Castle, she nearly forgot. Well, she'd dwell on that later.

Head held high, Kate walked directly to her desk, sat down her coffee cup and pulled out her chair. "Morning," she said to her partner. Her tone didn't sound happier than usual, did it? And it didn't sound too grumpy either, right? God, she was a mess.

His head snapped up and, if she was not mistaken, a soft twinkle could be seen in his eyes when he said. "Good morning, Beckett. Sleep well?"

Had she been sipping her coffee, she probably would have choked. Fortunately, no liquids were presenting her mouth so her splutter wasn't obvious. "Ah, yeah—yeah I did. You?"

"Like a baby."

His grin was wide—a bit too wide. Damn, why did he have to look so foolish? He was going to give them away!

Taking a casual sip of her coffee, Kate opened her email inbox and began to scroll through the messages. When she spotted the one from Montgomery announcing the plans for Anderson's funeral she skipped it; she wasn't ready to read that yet.

A few minutes later she was so engrossed in reading an article someone had emailed her she failed to notice her partner had sat down in the guest chair beside her desk until he cleared his throat. She jumped and nearly spilled her coffee. She panicked momentarily before she realized that him sitting there was fine; he often took that seat when they were deep in discussion over a case.

"So, ah, about last night," he began softly, resting his forearm against her desk. "Sorry I had to leave but Alexis-"

She shook him off. "It's fine; I understand." Truthfully she was glad they didn't have to do the awkward morning after dance while they were both still naked; that definitely made it worse.

He smiled gently at her. "But, ah, just so you know. For the record, I mean. Last night was really nice. Really, really nice—ah, good. Really good." Despite tripping over some words, his smile grew as he spoke. So much so that Kate couldn't help feeling a little silly but smiling in return.

"It was good."

If she didn't know better, she would have thought he looked relieved. "Good—great! So, ah, why don't you come to my place for dinner tonight? I mean, are you free?"

"Oh," she began, tucking her hair behind her ears and turning towards her computer screen. Oh no. This was _definitely_ not the direction she wanted this conversation to go. "No."

His brow wrinkled. "No you're not free? Or no you don't want to?"

Her eyes darted towards him. "Just no, Castle."

Slightly wounded he asked, "Why?"

She grumbled. "Because…just because we," she lowered her voice to an almost whisper, "you know—doesn't mean you—I mean, you don't have to do…this."

Amused at how such a simple invitation had ruffled her feathers, he asked, "What?"

She shook her head and took a deep breath. "Whatever it is you're trying to do."

He skimmed his hand over his chin for a moment before leaning in a bit closer to her. "Actually, Alexis has a school assignment for her life studies class. She has to make a meal for a non-family member so I thought maybe that could be you."

Oh.

_Oh_.

Well, she was an asshole, wasn't she? Here she thought Castle was trying to turn their night of passion into a relationship when really he was just trying to help out his kid. Though, in her own defense, his timing was suspect. "Oh, ah, yeah…yeah I can come over for dinner."

He beamed. "Great! Alexis will be thrilled." He made to stand up but then thought better of it. Turning back to her, he lowered his voice and said, "Oh, and for the record. I also think it would be nice for us to share a meal, all things considered."

Kate "hmmph-ed" under her breath as he walked away. So she had been right the first time! He was trying to turn their work partnership into something more. Well, she would definitely need to nip that one in the bud before it progressed any further.

As the day went on, Kate felt as though every time she looked at her partner she caught him looking back at her, smiling. The first few times he tried to look away when she caught him, but by the middle of the day he'd given up on it entirely. The fact that his smile made her give one in return annoyed her greatly. How could he have this effect on her? Castle—he was just Castle. The exact same man he'd been the day before when he only made her smile occasionally. Once a day. A few times a day…five times a day—at most!

By mid-afternoon, her annoyance had faded away in exchange for more rational thought. Maybe this situation wasn't as bad as it seemed. Maybe sleeping with Castle again wouldn't be such a bad idea.

Relationships were far too much work in her opinion. With the high stress and long hours of her job, she found she rarely had the time or the energy for them. Despite living in a city as large as New York, meeting new people she liked had never been her strong suit and, despite Lanie's insistence, she was not yet ready to try internet dating. Yet, as a woman, she had needs.

Before the prior evening, the last time she had sex was…well, she didn't want to dwell on that, but what was she supposed to do? One night stands had never been her thing, and as she was now within months of the thirty-year-old mark she no longer viewed them as an option. Yet, having a casual sexual relationship with someone she knew and was comfortable around seemed to be a decent solution to her problem. In that case, she thought, why not Castle? If he was willing and able then it would appear she found a simple—albeit unexpected—solution to her problem. She just had to make it very clear her intentions were not to become Wife Number Two.


	11. Chapter 10

_A/N: OMG Ya'll - have we seen "Hollander's Woods"? I won't spoil for anyone who hasn't yet, but it was definitely my favorite episode of Season 7. Fabulous season finale! (Thank god Season not Series - though it would have made a good one of those)_

* * *

**Ten**

Leaning against the refrigerator, Richard Castle bit his lip as he watched his daughter smash refrigerated Pillsbury dough across the bottom of a cookie sheet. _I will not be a control freak; I will not be a control freak; I will not be a control freak_, became his mantra. He was trying not to intervene but only supervise, though it was positively killing him.

Per her assignment, she was to come up with and make the meal on her own with very little input from her parent, save where safety was concerned. For the most part, Castle had done well. She was making an absolute mess, but that he didn't mind so much. It was the horrible and inefficient way she did everything else that was driving him insane. Twice he tried to suggest a better way, but he was immediately chastised with a, "Daddy, I can do it," from his red-head. All he could do was stand back, watch and hope Kate would like her taco pizza creation.

Kate.

As he'd been focused on making sure his daughter didn't cut herself or destroy anything in their kitchen, Castle actually had not thought about his female partner since the cooking process began about twenty minutes earlier. That had to be a record, as he had thought about her every moment of every hour since waking up.

The events of the prior evening had been an unexpected surprise, but certainly not an unwelcome one. She was, in a word, extraordinary. He'd known that before, but after making love to her he knew nothing could convince him otherwise. She was the kind of woman he felt lucky just knowing. He was blessed to work with her and if their relationship could be more that would be even better.

More. Did he really want that?

Of course he was thinking about her now when everything was so fresh. The feel of their bodies together was still vivid in his mind as it was not quite twenty-four hours later. Would he still feel the same after a week? After the initial (and literal) climax to their sexual tension had died off? His gut said yes, but his brain wasn't so sure.

Their situation was no doubt complex. They worked together—they worked well together. Their working partnership and crime solving rate was the envy of their department; this was no secret to any of them. Did he want to risk ruining that by sleeping with Kate for a few weeks and then having their relationship blow up in his face? Of course not. But, the devil's advocate side of him wondered, what if it didn't blow up?

Perhaps, he sighed inwardly, he was blowing things out of proportion. Maybe Kate didn't want to sleep with him again. Maybe she just wanted to leave it to one night. Maybe that was for the best.

"Okay, sweetie," Castle said when his daughter finished mushing the dough around. "Let me help you put it in the oven."

"Dad," she said with a whine. "I can do it."

Castle bit the interior of his lip. She was twelve, not five, but he still did not want to see her get burned. "Okay, honey, just be real careful."

He watched with bated breath as she pulled open the oven door, slid the tray onto the top rack, took a step back and shut the door again. Almost on cue, the moment the oven door shut the buzzer to their apartment door rang. "And that'll be your guest of honor," he told her with a smile.

Alexis beamed and raced to the door. She gripped the handle and pulled it open. Looking up at the taller, leather jacket clad woman she said, "Good evening, Detective Beckett; c'mon in!"

Kate could not help but chuckle at the precocious girl. She certainly had inherited her father's flair for drama. Though she could not fully recall every detail of being twelve years old, the red-head seemed tall for her age, which made sense given her father's height, but perhaps she was merely elongated by the orange-red braided pigtails she wore with a purple short sleeved dress and black knee-length leggings.

"Good evening, Alexis," Kate smiled at her. "And you can call me Kate."

"Well c'mon in! Dinner's almost ready!" Alexis waved her hand dramatically to usher Kate inside. She skipped off towards the kitchen but her father stopped her with a pointed look. "Oh right!" Alexis proclaimed, spinning on one foot to face Kate again. "Can I get you something to drink? We have water, soda or wine, but if you want wine Daddy has to get it because I'm not allowed."

Kate couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "Wine would be nice, thank you," she said to the girl, then flicked her eyes towards Castle.

"Red or white?" he asked gently.

She shrugged. "Whatever you think would go well with dinner." He nodded to her and then told her to take a seat at the table. Once he'd slipped into the kitchen, Kate took an opportunity to observe his apartment. It was, in a word, crowded.

At first glance, Kate was nearly overwhelmed at the level of belongings he possessed in such a small space. It wasn't messy or cluttered per-say, just full. She guessed the main room of the apartment to be about the same size as hers if not slightly smaller and she lived alone; Castle and his daughter filled this space.

Castle returned not a moment later cutting off her chance for observation. He passed over a glass of red wine and she thanked him. "So what's for dinner?"

"Ah," he said with a broad smile. "I'll let the chef tell you that. Alexis!"

Her head poked out from the kitchen door. "Yeah Dad?"

"Detective Beckett would like to know what's for dinner."

"Taco pizza. And she said I can call her Kate, Dad."

Castle smiled at his partner. "My mistake."

"Taco pizza?" Kate asked him softly.

Castle shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. She found the recipe online. It doesn't look too bad, assuming you like tacos?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Great!"

A minute later he excused himself to the kitchen to aid his daughter affording Kate more opportunity to observe his space. On the table closest to the entry way, she found half a dozen family pictures with a photo frame of eight pictures hung above it. All the pictures were of Alexis. The frame of eight appeared to contain her official school picture from kindergarten up through the current year. Kate smiled at the girl's progression, though she could not say for certain if she strongly resembled her father. Maybe the nose; definitely the eyes.

Hearing a muffled yelp from the kitchen, Kate cringed. "Can I help you guys with anything?"

"No, no!" her partner called back. "You're the guest; sit down—relax!"

Relax. Right, totally. She could absolutely relax while in the same room as the man she slept with for the first time the night before and his daughter, with whom she was sharing a meal for the first time. She took another sip of her wine as she sat down at the four seat kitchen table; the wine would at least assist in the relaxation process.

Once their meal was started Kate found that she actually had a good time. A very good time, as a matter of fact. The taco pizza, while different than she expected, wasn't bad, but the homemade guacamole was excellent (and a Castle family recipe, as she discovered). Castle and his daughter were a joy to watch as they interacted with and teased each other. Kate's cheeks actually began to hurt from laughing so hard.

With the meal over, Alexis retired to her room to work on homework. Castle informed her it was his job to do the dishes due to their dinner role-reversal. Kate offered to help, but he refused by reminding her she was the guest. Despite this, she aided him in carrying plates into the kitchen and stood by the counter with her glass of wine as he began to wash up.

"Alexis is a great kid."

He gave her a gentle smile. "Thanks; I appreciate you saying that. Sometimes, as a single parent you're never sure you're doing anything right."

"Well you are," she promised him. She took another sip of her wine as her eyes drifted down the hallway through which the girl disappeared. "So, ah, is your bedroom back there too?"

Castle dropped two forks into the sink where they landed with a clatter. He gazed over at her and noticed a smile he'd never seen before. It spoke of slyness, intrigue and desire. Damn. Why was it suddenly so hot in his kitchen? "It, ah, it is, but Alexis…she, well, she doesn't go to bed until after eight thirty and I'm not really-"

"I can wait," Kate informed him. Then, after a beat, she added, "If you want."

Castle paused at her implied question.

Did he want that? That was the very thing he had been musing before her arrival.

In the simplest of terms, the answer was a resounding yes; yes, of course. He wanted another night with her. More than one, if possible. Still, the situation called for some serious thought.

He gazed over at her and saw her flick her eyes down to her feet and then back up at him. She tapped her fingers against the edge of her wine glass and bit her lip; he was a goner.

"Y-yeah," he said, his voice coming out with a bit more squeak than he would have preferred. "Yeah, definitely. Why don't you go make yourself comfortable?" He suggested, nodding towards the main sitting area. With a smile, she obliged.

Fifteen minutes later, still drying his hands on a dishtowel, Castle walked out to the sitting room to find Kate perusing his shelves of books. She read each title with the same attention to detail as one would read the most exciting chapter in their favorite story. If she planned on reading the title of each of the books he owned she'd be there for several more hours due to his expansive collection.

Hearing his footsteps, she looked over to him and smiled. "You have a lot more books than I expected."

He chuckled; her tone made him sound illiterate. "Why? Did you think I couldn't read?"

She shook her head. "No. I've read your reports; they're very well written, but I just…I didn't expect this; you may have more than me, which is impress…" Her voice trailed off when she reached the bottom shelf of the case she stood in front of. His brow furrowed for a moment, wondering what she had found, but when he realized; he felt his face immediately grow hot. Shit; he hadn't thought about her finding that!

Stunned nearly into silence, Kate pulled a crisp volume from the shelf and held it in her hands. Her eyes skimmed the front cover once. Twice. A Third time. _In a Hail of Bullets_ by Richard Castle. No, she definitely hadn't read the spine wrong.

Her brow deeply furrowed, she turned to him, holding the title out. "Is…is this you?"

"Ah…" He tossed the dishtowel over his left shoulder and ran his right hand through his hair. "Yeah…that's from a different life."

Kate looked down at the book again. Even with his confirmation it hardly made sense. This was a book—a real book with a dust jacket and cover art. She flipped the book over to find a barcode, ISBN number and even a tiny picture of the author, though he looked significantly younger than the man who stood before her.

She had no idea. Absolutely no idea. Not even the slightest clue. Yes, the verbiage in his written reports had surprised her the first time she read it; she had never met anyone with better grammar than herself and that person being Castle was surprising (even if it was unfair to judge him that way.) Still, there was a difference between being diligent when it came to writing skills and having an actual published novel.

Still stunned, she looked up to him again. "You wrote a book?"

"Two, actually," he confessed.

Kate immediately turned back to the book shelf and couched down. Right next to the empty spot she found another title with his name. She tucked the first book under her arm and pulled the second from its place. She walked over and set her wine glass down on the nearest table so she could hold a book in each hand. "Castle, these are real books. Books that were published."

"Right." He almost found her flummoxed expression amusing; she could not have sounded more shocked if he told her he actually had x-ray vision and super human speed.

"Wh-when?"

"'bout fifteen years ago for the first one," he told her. "And the other about a year later."

"So…you had a contract with a publisher?" she inquired.

"'til I got dropped for low sales, but yeah."

Kate gazed down at the books again just to make sure they weren't figments of her imagination. Nope, they were real; definitely real. "So, ah…do you still write?"

"Oh." He shrugged, slipping his hands into his jean pockets. "I dabble, but nothing too serious. Between work and Alexis I don't have tons of time."

Kate nodded again, though absentmindedly. Her eyes had turned to the first book she picked up. She flipped open the front cover of _In a Hail of Bullets_ and read the summary. The fact that Castle—Castle!—had written it still shocked her. How could Castle be a writer!?

With great amusement, she looked back up at him. "May I borrow this and read it?"

Much to her surprised, he looked embarrassed. "Oh you don't have to…"

"I want to," she promised.

Still, he protested. "It's a thriller I don't know if-"

Her smile grew wider. "I like thrillers. And just about every genre, to be honest."

"Ok. Well sure, go ahead." He agreed. Kate reading his book; that wasn't something he had seen coming. He didn't mind, really. He wasn't embarrassed of his works; he was proud of them, despite his lack of success on a broader scale.

"Is this where you write?"

Her voice pulled him from his inner thoughts and he looked up to see she had wandered to the far corner of the room, where a cramped and cluttered desk was tucked. "Mmhm."

Her eyes scanned the surface, but there wasn't much to see. There was a large empty space where she imagined a laptop usually sat, thought it was missing at present. Instead, she found notes scattered on napkins and tiny scraps of paper. Stuck to the center of the wall above the desk was a yellow stickie note with a single name written on it. "Who's Nikki Heat?"

Castle jumped a step forward at the mention of his latest character by her muse. "Ahh don't look at that."

Kate turned away quickly and muttered out an embarrassed, "Sorry."

Feeling guilty for scolding her, he backtracked. "No it's okay. I just… it's not developed yet. Potential new character. I don't know-"

"Dad!"

"Ah sorry," he apologized to Kate, turning towards the sound of his daughter's call. When he got to her room he would have to congratulate her on her impeccable timing.

Kate waved her hand casually. "Don't worry. I'll just sit here and read."

* * *

Just before nine, Castle returned to the main sitting room of his apartment. Alexis's homework question had taken much longer than he expected, plus he realized his bedroom was an absolute disaster area, so he had spent twenty minutes straightening up (aka throwing things in his closet or stuffing them under his bed.) Plus he had changed the sheets. He only hoped Kate wasn't too displeased with his absence. As a matter of fact, part of him expected her to be gone. But she wasn't. He found her sitting cross-legged on his couch, book open in her lap.

"You're still reading?" he asked gently. By the look of it, she'd made significant progress too.

She looked up at him, smiling. "I'm enjoying this."

He shook his head. "You don't have to say that."

"But I am," she promised. "You're a really good writer."

"Well thank you," he said, trying his best not to blush at her ever-growing smile. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of him. "So, ah, Alexis just finished getting ready for bed so…"

Kate unfolded herself from the couch and carried the book with her to Castle's desk. She stole one of his stickie notes to use as a bookmark, and then took the book to the entryway, where she tucked it beside her purse so she would not forget it. Then, she carried her wineglass to the kitchen and set it inside the sink. She glanced at Castle, who had watched her perform these tasks with reverence, and felt the slightest bit of nerves form in her belly. "So, um, do we wait for her to fall asleep or…?"

Castle couldn't help but chuckle. "Have you never slept with someone who had a kid?" Biting her lip, she shook her head. It was in that moment he fully realized what a difference their nine-and-a-half year age gap really meant. "Well, Alexis is twelve so she's not going to come barging into my room unannounced if that's what you're worried about."

"I know that," Kate said a bit dumbly. "I was just…"

Castle stepped in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "We don't have to wait, but we do have to be a little quiet."

Kate smiled. "I can be quiet."

"Good." With that, he took her hand in his and led her back to his bedroom.


	12. Chapter 11

_A/N: Just as fair warning: this chapter skirts the edges of an M rating, but as this is about as racy as it gets, I'm not changing the fic rating. Thanks!_

* * *

**Eleven **

"Oh my god I couldn't stand it!" Kate Beckett groaned when she felt the hands of her partner skim down her back and land on her ass. Using the lapels of his jacket for leverage, she spun them around so she was able to kick the door to her apartment shut with the tip of her boot. With this task complete, she pounced on his lips once more.

"I know."

"I really thought I was just going to explode." She pushed her hands underneath his jacket and began to slide it off his shoulders. He assisted by wiggling his arms and letting the item slide down. When it landed with a plop, his hands were back on her—roaming, caressing.

"I know."

By that point they had backed their way to the couch. Kate dragged him around to the front and pressed on each of his shoulders with her index and middle fingers. He sat down so hard it made the sofa squeak, but she didn't notice. She reached down and unzipped each boot before kicking the items across the room. Once sock-footed, she climbed on the couch and straddled his lap as he asked, "Who schedules a staff meeting at four o'clock on Friday anyway?"

"Right?" She proclaimed, her fingertips shooting directly for the buttons on his shirt. "I wasn't even paying attention."

His hands mirrored her actions. "Nope."

"All I could think about was your face."

His hands momentarily dropped as he eyed her curiously. With a heavy exhale he asked, "My face?"

She looked up at him with a devious expression. As she rolled her hips against his she informed him, "Yeah. In between my thighs."

"Jesus Beckett." Castle let out a groan as he lifted his hips off the couch to meet hers. She let out a low chuckle before covering his mouth with hers again, skimming her tongue against his. With this fresh reminder, Castle pulled back and said, "For the record I couldn't stop thinking about your mouth today."

She popped the final button on his shirt and ripped it open. "My mouth?"

"Yeah. When you were interrogating that guy. So fucking hot." He moaned when he felt her tongue skimming down his neck, stopping just at the edge of his under t-shirt.

She threw her head back, tossing her hair, wild and long, out of her face. She squeezed her knees a bit tighter around his hips and ground her pelvis down against his. God damn, he was already hard and ready for her, but she wasn't done having fun yet. "You like it when I interrogate, Castle?"

"So much," he mumbled, his brain barely functioning due to lack of blood flow. "So very much."

During the course of their three months of partnership with benefits (as Kate liked to think of it) she had learned many ways in which to please and torture her partner. Many, many ways.

After fifteen more minutes of tortuously slow undressing and teases from lips and fingertips, Castle was flat on his back on Kate's sofa as she rode him, her fingertips clawing into his shoulders a bit harder with each moan. Castle gazed up at her bouncing breasts and pleasure filled expression fully knowing she might very well kill him one day with those amazingly talented hips of hers. Literally, she might be the death of him and he was okay with that; what a way to go.

A few minutes later, both of them sated, she collapsed forward and rested her head on his shoulder. Still breathing heavy, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her in close, breathing in the cherry-vanilla scent of her hair and shutting his eyes tightly to reflect on what his life had become.

In the prior three months—ever since the untimely death of one of their colleges—things had certainly changed at the NYPD's twelfth precinct. McCreary had a new partner: a boring, by-the-book rookie whom he hated. Of course, Castle and Kate found great amusement in this. As she put it, it served McCreary right for being such an insufferable douche bag.

To add insult to McCreary's injury, he had also, for the most part, lost his only remaining friend at the precinct: Castle. True, Castle was still friendly with McCreary while they were at the office or on shared cases (despite Kate voicing that for the life of her she couldn't understand why) but they never spent any time outside of work together. Not anymore; all of Castle's free time was spent with Kate.

Initially, Castle feared his transition from just partners to more than partners with Kate would blow up in his face. Granted, in his mind's eye, he saw them fighting over something work-related, ending their sexual relationship, and having to stare awkwardly at each other across their neighboring desks until one of them could be transferred. Fortunately, this did not occur; the opposite did.

Somehow, spending time together outside of work only made their partnership at work stronger. They finished each other's thoughts more than ever. They were in sync both on the case and off, much to the envy of some of their coworkers (McCreary included, as his case closure rate had dropped significantly with the loss of Anderson.)

When they arrived at the one year anniversary of their partnership, Castle and Kate found themselves faced with another surprise. As I turned out, their coworkers had placed bets on how long their partnership would last. Many had guessed in the several month range at the most due to their bickering and Kate's history of brief partnerships. Only Anderson had bet they'd last over a year and, sadly, he wasn't around to celebrate his win.

Once they finished work that day, the partners celebrated their own way: in bed. (Well, technically they celebrated first on Kate's kitchen table, but then they moved to the bedroom.) They laughed and reminisced over their first day together and the threat she had made to him. She smiled and explained it away by saying she was a serious career woman and he had a reputation for being a loose cannon, but he knew her words had been just another way of protecting herself.

Kate had walls around her; there was no doubt about that. Fortunately, Castle had trenched several tunnels beneath them and thrown a rope bridge over the top. The more time they spent together, the lower her defenses became and the more often she laughed and smiled. Castle loved seeing her smile and hearing her melodious laugh; he viewed each occurrence as a personal triumph.

That autumn evening Kate and Castle's post-coital silenced was breached by the rather loud growling of his stomach, which made both of them laugh. Kate pushed herself upright and reached for her shirt as she stood. "Where do you want to order from? We can have it delivered."

"Nah," Castle said, scooping up his jeans and t-shirt. "I'll go pick it up."

"You don't have to."

"But it'll be faster and I'm hungry—clearly." He added with a laugh. Then, he told her to pick the place as he walked to her bathroom to clean up and redress.

Kate pulled on her panties and shirt, but made no other attempt to redress before walking into the kitchen. She opened her "drawer of menus" and began to rummage. What was she in the mood for? Italian was always a good choice, but she'd already had that this week. She and Castle had Thai on Wednesday and pizza for lunch on Monday and Thursday. "How about Chinese?" Kate called out to her companion.

"Works for me," he responded. "You want your usual chicken thing?"

"Yep."

"'kay; be back soon." As he walked out through the kitchen, he pressed a kiss onto the side of her head. She smiled as she watched him go. Only when she heard the door shut tightly she walk back to her bedroom to change into yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Unfortunately, it was getting to the time of the year when it was too cold to sit around the apartment in skimpy attire. As much as she would miss summer, she did look forward to the beautiful colors and crisp air of autumn; it was her favorite season.

Rummaging through her closet, Kate pulled on the first sweatshirt-looking textile she found only to discover it was vastly oversized for her. Confused, she stared down at it. Yep, this was her NYPD logo pull-over, but how had it doubled in sized?! Oh, she realized; it belonged to her partner.

Oh.

Was he leaving clothes at her place now? She wasn't sure she was alright with that. How long had this been going on, anyway?

Kate thought back to the last time he had been wearing the item. She decided it must have been the unusually cold weekend earlier in the month. That was also the weekend she had gone into a laundry frenzy and she must have gathered the item up by mistake. Shrugging to herself, she reached her hands down to the hem of the item, meaning to pull it off, but then she stopped. She kind of…liked it. It was large and cozy and faintly smelled at him. Maybe she would keep wearing it for that evening. After all, she already had it on, but she would return it to him after that; she didn't need to keep any of his clothes.

Walking back to the kitchen to set up for dinner, Kate thought about Castle. Three months—they had been sleeping together for three months. Three months, two weeks and day if she wanted to get technical—not that she was keeping track or anything. Honestly, she had to admit being a bit surprised by the duration of their partners-with-benefits relationship thus far.

In Castle's bedroom on their second night together, Kate softly explained to her colleague that she was not looking for anything serious, least of all a boyfriend. All she was looking for, quite bluntly, was someone with whom she could have sex. She didn't want dates; she didn't want commitment. Dinners together were fine as was spending the night on occasion, but nothing more.

Castle was visibly stunned by her comments, though he ultimately agreed to her terms. She sensed some hesitation in him, though, and figured after a few weeks their get-togethers might die off and that had almost been the case.

A little over a month after they started, Castle went on a week-long vacation with his daughter. During that time, he had very little communication with her save a few text message including one which included a picture of an ice cream shop with the name Beckett. She didn't mind this; he was spending time with his daughter and did not need to be thinking about work and thus her, but when he returned things were weird between them—really weird.

During his first few days back there was an atypical amount of silence between them as they rode in their squad car or sat at their desks. The first day she understood; he was tired and getting back into a routine, but as time went on she wondered if he had decided to end their couplings and simply didn't know how to tell her. If during his time away he'd wised up and realized something casual wasn't what he really wanted.

Kate wasn't sure how she felt about this. If that was his decision, she would respect it, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed and curious as to whether something specific had happened to change his mind. Her uncertainty led to tension between them and, four days after his return, they had a disagreement over an outlandish theory he cooked up to explain a victim's peculiar past. This led to an argument and, ultimately, heated makeup sex in a secluded precinct janitorial closet.

Ever since, they'd spent two to three nights a week together, depending on their caseload or Castle's schedule with his daughter. Kate preferred for their activities to take place at her apartment instead of his as she was not one hundred percent comfortable having sex with him while Alexis was around, but that was not always possible. If they had to meet at Castle's, Kate liked to wait until Alexis went to bed to go over. This was not to say she disliked the girl. She had dinner with the father and daughter duo twice over the summer and enjoyed each occasion, but she also wanted to be slightly surreptitious so his daughter did not catch on to what they were doing.

* * *

Thirty five minutes after he left Castle returned with their meal less the egg roll he ate on the walk back. They sat across from each other at her kitchen table as they sipped on wine and divided up their food. As they ate, they discussed their staff meeting from that evening and the refreshment on protocols neither of them felt they needed.

When they finished, Castle assisted Kate in the cleaning up process and removed a full garbage bag from her apartment. Upon returning, he found Kate at the kitchen sink washing dishes. He walked up behind her, slipped his hands around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. "You know," he began deeply into her ear, "Alexis is at a sleepover tonight."

"Is she?"

"Mmhmm." He slid his hand beneath the sweatshirt she wore and up the front of her body until he reached her breasts. There, he discovered she wore no bra; perfect. "I could stay a little while if you want."

Kate shook her hands into the sink to rid them of excess water. Then she spun around in his embraced as smiled up at him mischievously. "Well, that sounds good because I don't think I'm done with you yet." With that, she stood on her toes and covered his mouth with hers.


	13. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

Sandwich – Check. Orange – Check. Water bottle – Check.

Castle was just about finished with his pre-dawn routine when he was interrupted by the soft padding of feet coming down the hall. He looked up to see his daughter, hair in complete disarray from a night of fitful sleeping, rubbing her eyes as she approached. "Sweetie," he began softly, "what are you doing up?"

Castle could probably count on one hand the times Alexis had gotten out of bed before her alarm on a school morning. The girl loved to sleep in; a trait she picked up from her father. Generally, Castle tried to be as quiet as he could in the early morning hours, though given the size of their apartment he knew he occasionally woke her, but typically she just rolled over and fell back to sleep.

"I forgot to tell you something," she informed him before yawning. "I need a costume for school."

Castle felt a few droplets of sweat form on his brow. Good god—a costume? "What for, honey?"

"Thanksgiving stuff. I have to be a pilgrim or an Indian."

"Okay," he said slowly. Off the top of his head he wasn't sure how to construct either of those costumes. "When do you need it by?"

"Tomorrow."

Fresh panic filled Castle. "Tomorrow like today as in you should have told me yesterday that you needed this for tomorrow?"

The sleepy girl blinked up at her father. "Huh?"

Castle took a deep breath. "What day do you need the costume for, sweetie?"

"Friday."

Good, good. That was actually the following day, so he had time. Not much time, but still time. Castle stepped forward and put his arm around the girl's shoulders, turning her and directing her back towards her bedroom. "Okay, sweetie; we'll work on it tonight when you get home from school. Now go back to bed until your alarm goes off."

She yawned. "Ok, Daddy."

When Castle arrived at the precinct that morning he was still preoccupied by thoughts of Alexis's costume. Pilgrim or Indian? Which would be easier, he wondered to himself. Typically, he would have turned to his mother for advice as she was much more versed in costumes and anything else that fell under the realm of stage acting. Unfortunately, she was out of town at an actor's retreat and thus unable to assist him. That was alright, he told himself; he would simply find some time that morning to search the internet for easy costume ideas and then pick up whatever supplies he needed on the way home.

He sat down to his desk, logged on to his computer, and began absentmindedly going through the mail that had been delivered to his desk the previous day after he left. Coming across an envelope labeled "Confidential" Castle immediately ripped it open thinking it was the financial information they had requested for their latest case. He dumped the contents on his desk and picked up the page on top. Immediately, his brow furrowed.

The information was indeed financial records and bank statements, but not for their victim. Instead, the information was for a man named Richard Coonan, aka Dick Coonan, the man who had murdered Beckett's mother over a decade earlier.

More confused than ever, Castle picked up the envelope once more and turned it over. There, he found it was actually addressed to Detective Kate Beckett and not to him; someone had put it on his desk by mistake. Normally, he would have been concerned for the rage he would face from his partner over him opening a package meant for her, but at that moment his concern was outweighed by his own anger.

What the hell was she doing?

Months earlier he had sat with her on the fire escape behind the precinct as she cried and begged him not to pursue her mother's murder case any further. By her own admission the case had nearly destroyed her and she wanted—no, needed—to put it behind her.

As an investigator, Castle did not agree easily to these terms. He wanted to dig deeper; find more answers, but as she had asked him to, he agreed and had not done one second of research into Dick Coonan, his associates, or any of his other murder cases. He would have been lying if he said he didn't think about the case from time to time. Mostly, it was when he saw a sad expression cross her face; it reminded him of the deep sadness she had in her past.

He couldn't even fathom the pain, frustration and anger behind not being able to determine the origins on the hit put out on her mother's life. Though they weren't the best of friends, Castle could not comprehend losing his mother in such a violent way and then just walking away from the crime. That took great strength in his mind, but it appeared Kate had folded under the pressure.

His brow more wrinkled than ever, Castle reviewed the financial documents in his hands. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were no large deposits that would indicate payoffs for a hired murder. All the transactions seemed normal to him, but then again he wasn't as familiar with the case as Kate clearly was.

Still annoyed, he set the pages aside and waited for her to arrive. When she did, they were going to have a discussion about the information and he imagined that discussion would not be a pleasant one.

* * *

Kate Beckett arrived at work, coffee cup in hand, annoyance written all over her face. She was late thanks to a fifteen minute shutdown of the subway car she rode in; she hated being late.

She mumbled a hello to her partner before sitting down at her desk and quickly tapping in her computer password. She scanned through her emails and found the financial information for their victim she'd been waiting for; perfect. Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Hey Castle, I"- Kate cut off her speech when she glanced across the desk to find her partner wasn't there. He'd been sitting there thirty seconds earlier. Where had he gone?

Sensing movement to her left, she turned her head and jumped when she realized he stood directly beside her, his six-foot-one frame towering over her seated figure. He looked annoyed. More than annoyed, actually. His expression definitely bordered on anger. "Jesus Castle, what are you doing?"

He slammed a stack of papers down on her desk and sat down hard in her guest chair. "I thought you weren't going to investigate," he said simply.

Confused, Kate turned her eyes down to see what he'd given her. The moment she saw the name at the top of the financial statements, she felt her whole body flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "You opened my mail!?" she demanded of him.

He brushed off her accusation. "It was put on my desk by mistake; I thought it was for our case. What the hell, Kate?"

"This," she began, scooping up the stack and shoving it into her top desk drawer, "is none of your concern."

"The hell it isn't," he spat back at her. "I'm your partner."

"And this is my mother's case, which means it's off limits to you."

Her eyes narrowed at him and her expression turned dangerous. Normally, this would cause him to back off, but not that morning; not when he was already angry with her. "You said you weren't going to investigate."

Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. She held his gaze for another moment before turning back to her computer screen. "The case is none of your concern, Castle; end of story."

Castle did not move back to his seat, but Kate had no problem ignoring him. Her mother's case wasn't any of his concern; it was hers and hers alone. So she was looking into Coonan's financials—so what? Maybe there would be a really obvious connection to whomever hired him to kill her mother or any of the others whose lives he stole. What was the harm in looking for that?

* * *

For the next several hours the atmosphere between Castle and Beckett was icy at best. She reviewed their victim's financials and updated their murder board while he sulked at his computer. It was mid-morning by the time they spoke again. She informed him that she was going to go out and interview the victim's boss and landlord and he could tag along if he wanted to.

Castle stood from his desk, snagged the keys from hers before she could protest, and led the way to the elevator. Silent as ever, he climbed into the driver's seat and maneuvered the vehicle out into city traffic. They were about a block away from the precinct before he spoke. "About Coonan's financials."

She growled at him. "Castle-"

"No, listen," he interrupted, refusing to let her shut him down—not this time. "I'm not going to investigate; I won't help you, not unless you ask, but there's something I want to say and I want you to hear it." He paused and waited for a rebuttal from her. When none came, he continued.

"Every day—every single day we sit side by side, we share this car. You have my back and I have yours, which means I care about you. This isn't…this isn't about what we do outside of work. This is about you and me—partners on the job. I want your head in the game, Kate. You're the one who told me that your mother's case nearly destroyed you and that's why you had to stop investigating. What's changed now?"

For the remainder of their drive, Kate was silent. Though she loathed admitting it, her partner had a valid point. In addition to affecting her own life, her investigation could very well interfere with his as well.

During her first round of investigations into her mother's case she had done so exclusively on her own. She'd begun when she was still a beat cop. She would show up, put in her time, and the second she was off the clock turn her attention to her mother's murder. She didn't have anyone to answer to then other than her own conscious.

As time went on and she was upgraded to a detective, her investigation continued. At that point, she was partnered with Mike Royce, the man who taught her everything she needed to know about being a cop. Though he never confirmed it, she figured Royce knew about her investigations, but he never said anything. If he ever caught her doing something, he just ignored it, knowing how much she needed it. Royce was gone before things spiraled too out of control for her and she forced herself to stop.

If she had been deep in an all-consuming investigation while Royce was around she knew he would have stopped her or at least tried to step in. Castle, she believed, would do the same. He would probably catch on even quicker given the intimate level of their relationship.

She didn't want to hide her investigation from him completely. Doing so made her feel like an addict. Squirreling away files in hidden drawers and in the back of closets. Looking for one more fix to get her through the day. She didn't want to be that person. More so, it wasn't fair to Castle if she became that person.

He was right. They were partners and she needed to have her head in the game. If she was in the middle of investigating something about her mother's case or about Coonan, she knew she would find it difficult to put that aside and focus on the active case she was working with Castle. In that instance, she became a danger to both of them and she didn't want to be that person.

When they conducted their interview with their latest victim's boss, Castle and Kate caught a break in their case that took up the rest of their day. As it turned out, their murdered stock broker had a prescription drug problem; he was murdered by his dealer when he tried to short pay him for some goods.

With the rest of their afternoon consumed by paperwork, Kate was unable to find the right time to apologize to her partner. This she didn't mind too much—she was still working up the nerve to do so. She hoped to get the opportunity to do so later in the day, but Castle ducked out as soon as his paperwork was in without even saying goodbye. She thought about texting him, but then decided against it; this apology needed to be done in person.

Kate ordered herself takeout for dinner, but found she had little appetite. After putting what was left of her food in her fridge she tidied up her apartment to keep herself busy until eight o'clock when she left for Castle's. As she had done so several times before, she knew leaving at that time would enable her to arrive at her partner's apartment just as his daughter was getting in to bed. That way, she could apologize without an audience.

Nerves churning in her gut, Kate knocked on Castle's apartment door and waited, tapping her boot-covered toe against the ground. A minute later he pulled open the door. Though she intended on apologizing immediately, the bizarre sight in front of her derailed her thoughts.

Castle stood before her with a large white sheet draped around his shoulders like a vastly oversized scarf. On his head, sat a black top had that appeared to be made of plastic or vinyl and clutched in his hand was a pin cushion shaped like a tomato.

"I, um, I wanted to…what…what's going on?" she stammered out.

"Oh," he said, looking down at himself. "I'm making Alexis into a pilgrim."

"You're…what?!" she asked with confusion.

"She needs a costume for school." Castle stood back, opened the door a bit further, and nodded over his shoulder. There, standing on a stool in the middle of an entry way was his daughter, swathed in black from head-to-toe. She waved at their guest.

"Hi Kate."

"Hi," Kate replied dumbly. Then, she turned back to Castle and lowered her voice. "I, ah, wanted to talk to you but I thought Alexis would be in bed by now."

Castle cringed. "Sorry, we got kind of a late start on the costume thing….You don't want to help, do you? I could use another set of hands," he confessed.

"Ah, oh-okay," she stammered, not sure what else to say. Castle beamed and led her into the apartment. Once inside, Kate shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the clothes tree by the door. She set her purse down against the wall and walked over to the red-headed girl. "So, um, what are we doing?"

"Alexis needs a pilgrim costume for school tomorrow. Well, pilgrim or Indian, but I thought pilgrim would be easier…though I'm not sure why, because I don't think it is. Show her what we found, Alexis," Castle requested of his daughter. The young girl beamed and held up the tablet computer she grasped. On the screen displayed instructions on how to create a perfect, oh-so-easy child's pilgrim costume. Castle, it appeared, was deviating significantly from the written instructions.

"So, I found this black robe thing at a thrift shop on my way home. I think it was someone's graduation gown from high school or something, but it works. Got the top hat for a dollar and now I'm cutting apart the sheet to give her those white bib things. So, do you want to hold or cut?" Castle asked her as he pulled the sheet from around his neck.

"Hold, I guess," Kate said.

Castle positioned the sheet atop Alexis's right shoulder in the way he wanted and Kate held it in position as he cut it down to size. He pinned the white strip into place before they repeated the process on the other side. With Alexis's modeling part done, she hopped off the stool, pulled the robe over her head and scurried off to get ready for bed. Castle scooped up the robe and carried it to the couch, where a sewing station was already set up.

Kate followed him, not bothering to hide her surprise. "You can sew?"

"Uh…not really," he told her with a laugh. "I can sew on buttons and, though I'm not proud to admit this, I was occasionally forced to help my mother fix up some of her stage costumes, so I know the basics. This is probably going to be the worst pilgrim costume at school tomorrow, but at least she won't go without one."

"Oh, I don't think it'll be the worst," Kate assured him. Castle looked up at her with a significant amount of disbelief; she laughed. "Can I do anything?"

"Uh, yeah, actually. Can you glue that gold buckle over there on this hat?"

As his hands were busy, Kate plucked the hat from his head and carried it to the other end of the couch, Holding it in her hands she realized it was constructed of some felt covered vinyl and not very sturdy at all, but for a child's costume it would be good enough. She found the "gold buckle" (aka a rectangle cut out of yellow construction paper) sitting on the coffee table beside a glue stick and smiled to herself; she doubted she'd used a glue stick in over fifteen years.

She hung the hat over one of her knees and reached for the items on the table. She applied a healthy amount of glue to the back of the rectangle and did her best to center it on the hat before sticking it down. She held it firm with her fingers for a few moments and then picked the hat up off her knee. The buckle immediately fluttered to the ground.

Confused, she picked it up again and attempted to stick it back on, but it wouldn't comply. "Uh, Castle…it's not sticking," she said, turning to him with buckle and hat in hand.

"What? Why?"

"I dunno…maybe it's the texture of the hat; the glue won't adhere to it," she rationalized.

"Ah, damn…okay, well I don't have any other type of glue. Can you staple it on?" he asked. She gave him a skeptical look. "What?"

"That'll look terrible."

He scoffed at her. "Okay, well do you have a better idea?"

She stared at him blankly. "Arts and crafts aren't really my thing."

He laughed. "Join the club."

Kate stared down at the hat and faux buckle in her hands for several moments before an idea came to her. The construction paper might not stick to the hat by way of the glue stick, but she could probably stick two pieces of construction paper together with it.

She retrieved the stapler from Castle's nearby desk and stapled the construction paper buckle to the hat. Then, she cut out a second buckle and glued it over top of the first thereby hiding the staples. When she was done she held the hat up to examine her work. It looked decent…or, as decent as a yellow piece of construction paper affixed to a vinyl top hat could look. Turning the hat, she displayed it to Castle. "Ta da."

He turned his head and smiled when he saw her work. "Great job! Thanks!"

She smiled and sat the hat down on the coffee table. She sat sideways on the couch so she could look over at her partner more easily. His brow wrinkled as he sewed the sheet pieces onto the black fabric. At least once a minute he would stab himself with the needle and curse under his breath; it made her smile.

"Castle, listen the reason I came over here tonight was to apologize to you."

Castle stopped sewing, let his hands drop to his lap, and looked over at her.

She leaned in, resting her forearms against her thighs. "You were right. It's not fair to you if my head isn't in the game, but you don't have to worry—that won't be a problem anymore."

Castle considered her words for a moment. He wasn't sure if what she said meant she would stop investigating Coonan or she'd just be more careful about it, but he decided not to press the issue. Instead, he thanked her.

She nodded. "Can I help you with anything else?"

"Oh no—you've already done more than your fair share." He promised.

"You sure?"

Castle nodded. "Absolutely."

When he turned back to his sewing, Kate leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said. "And don't worry; I'm sure Alexis's costume will look great."

* * *

_A/N: At some point I'm not sure why I bother defending myself, because it generally falls on deaf ears, but here we go: I'm sorry if you do not like the way Kate is written in this story. I stand by my writing and I do not believe her actions are out of character. This being said, if you don't like it, you don't have to keep reading it and you especially don't have to leave unpleasant anonymous comments._

_...and yet, I'm sure I'll still get some._

_To everyone else: thank you for reading; I appreciate your feedback. _


	14. Chapter 13

_A/N: Thank you all so much for all your wonderful reviews! I really, really appreciate all of them!_

* * *

**Thirteen**

Castle could hardly believe it when the beginning of the holiday season was upon them. It felt like just weeks ago he'd been chasing Alexis around Central Park, sweating through his t-shirt as she raced away on a scooter. Now, he bundled them both in sweaters and scarves to drop her off at the airport.

Against his better judgment, Castle had given in to his daughter's pleas to go to California and visit her mother over Thanksgiving break. Putting it bluntly, he was uncomfortable with every aspect of her trip. He did not like her flying alone even if it was a direct flight and, as a minor, she was escorted by airline personnel to and from the gate. More so, he was not a huge fan of her being alone with her mother, Meredith, for an extended period of time, particularly after what happened the last time.

The prior year, Alexis had visited her mother for a few days between Christmas and New Year's. As far as he could tell, the trip was going well until he received a call from Alexis asking him how much money she should tip a cab driver. Naturally, he asked why she was asking, only to discover Meredith had sent Alexis, an eleven year old girl, home in a cab in downtown L.A. by herself so she could go out with her friends.

Simply put, Castle had been furious and threatened Meredith that she would never again be allowed to spend any alone time with their daughter. After the incident Alexis's appeals had softened his attitude, but he was by no means comfortable with the situation. Thus, after putting her on a plane Saturday morning he headed to work desperate for a distraction.

That year, he and Kate had the misfortune of pulling a shift on Thanksgiving Day. As much as he didn't want to work holidays, he couldn't say he was too angry about this one. Alexis was out of town, after all, so it wasn't as though he had to leave her home with a babysitter while he went to work. Besides, he wouldn't complain about getting to spend the holiday with Kate. Theoretically, it would be a slow day for them so it wouldn't be that bad.

As a tradeoff for their holiday working time, the partners had off on Monday and Tuesday of that week. Castle decided that would be a perfect time for he and his partner to catch up on some alone time. Specifically: alone time in his bed. Kate had already told him she would be getting together with her father the weekend after Turkey Day, so he knew he would not be interrupting her plans.

Sly grin on his face, he walked into the bullpen and went directly to her desk and sat in her guest chair. They exchanged pleasant hellos before Castle leaned in towards her and lowered his voice. "So I was thinking…maybe Sunday evening you'd want to pack a bag and come over to my place."

She blinked at him. "A bag of what?"

"Clothes. Toothbrush. Any sex toys you want to use in inventive ways," he added with an eyebrow wiggle.

"Castle!" she scolded, glancing around quickly to see if anyone was in earshot. Fortunately, no one was. She turned back to him and saw his smirk had widened.

"So whadaya say?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Why…would I do this?"

He leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "Because it makes the most sense. Alexis is out of town so I thought we could, you know, hang out…and stuff," he said, refraining from going into more detail about any "stuff" they might do in case anyone was walking by at that moment. "That way you won't have to keep going back and forth to your apartment."

Kate clasped her hands together and rested them on her desk. Leaning closer to him, she spoke slowly, "So, just to be clear: on my two day break from you, you think I'm going to want to hang out with you?" She watched a panicked expression cross his face and laughed. "Just messing with you, Castle. I'll come over for dinner on Sunday night, okay?"

He beamed. "Perfect. You wanna go out?"

"How would we go out if I'm going to be tying you to the bed?" she replied. A half shocked, but partially turned on expression crossed his face and she laughed harder. "Oh my god! You are an easy mark today. Don't worry, Castle. I'm not really in to bondage," she informed him quietly.

"Really?" he said deeply, leaning his forearm against her desk. "Because I think we could use our handcuffs for-"

"Shh Castle!" she hissed to him when she spotted McCreary approaching. Castle turned his head, saw the detective, and nodded quietly to his partner. He pushed himself upright, walked casually back to his desk and sat down. Then, from his pocket, he pulled out his phone and tapped a text message to his partner expressing his thoughts on creative handcuff usage.

* * *

Sunday night shortly before six p.m. Kate arrived at Castle's apartment with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. The bag contained her toiletries, two changes of clothes and no sex toys despite Castle's initial suggestion. (While packing, she briefly considered throwing one in just to see what he'd say, but then decided against it.)

She had barely knocked on the door when Castle let her inside. Her nostrils were immediately met with a medley of delicious smells. It appeared Castle had decided to make them dinner instead of taking her out or ordering in. Kate was not disappointed about this in the least. Castle was an excellent cook and she would never turn down a meal from him.

"Have you heard from Alexis?" she asked as she poured herself a glass of wine.

"Oh, yes," he said with a slight eye roll. "She's having a _wonderful_ time and Meredith hasn't done anything too crazy yet, but it hasn't even been forty-eight hours so just give her time."

"At least you're optimistic," Kate commented.

"It's just," he sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. "I cannot shake this fear that she'll come home with a tattoo or her head shaved. Then you'll be investigating me for murdering my ex-wife."

She laughed. "It can't be that bad."

Castle gave her a pointed look. "You haven't seen what I've seen."

As they ate, they chatted about a variety of topics. Though they tried to stick to a "no work talk outside of work" policy, they rarely succeeded in avoiding work subjects entirely. That evening, they spoke not about a case, but about one of their coworkers: a man in his mid-twenties who had the unfortunate affliction of early-onset male pattern baldness. Instead of accepting his receding hairline or shaving his head entirely, the man had resorted to a Donald Trump-esque comb-over, which looked worse and worse by the day.

As they were cleaning up, Kate caught sight of one of Castle's book cases and it reminded her of the question she'd been meaning to as him. After recovering from her initial shock from discovering his past life as a novelist, Kate became endlessly intrigued by his former profession. She read both of his books and enjoyed them; the first more than the second, though neither were bad in her opinion. She could understand being stymied when dropped by his first publisher, but she had always been curious why he hadn't pursued other writing avenues.

"So, ah, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" he grunted to her.

"Why, ah, why'd you choose to enter the police academy? Instead of pursuing writing, I mean," she asked him.

"Oh…well," he sighed and leaned his hip against the kitchen counter. "I needed a good job – a solid job with benefits. It seemed like a reasonable idea at the time."

"Didn't you miss writing, though?"

He nodded then shrugged. "I suppose but, ah…well, writing and I had a tumultuous relationship."

Intrigued, her eyebrows raised. "How so?"

Castle grabbed his glass of wine from the kitchen counter and led the way out into the sitting room. When she joined him on the couch, he continued.

"Well after my publisher dropped me, I was really kind of down on the whole writing thing. I mean, I was barely twenty-three, but I'd come out of college with a published book and a second one all the way and I just thought I was invincible, you know? I'd tried so hard to get my first book published and I had a lot of rejections then, and with this rejection I was just kind of like, 'Now what?'"

He paused to take a sip of wine and sink deeper into the couch cushions. "Now this was right around the time I met Meredith and fell stupidly in love with her. I mean _stupid_ in love with her. I was completely blind to all her faults and the fact that she had stars in her eyes when she looked at me because I had my name on a book jacket."

"Had she read your books?" Kate asked.

"Before we met? No. We met at a party one evening and spent half the night talking. Then, a few days later, after our first official date I brought her back to my place and she saw the books," Castle explained; Kate nodded. "Anyway, ah, Meredith is an actress—did you know that?"

Kate thought for a second. "I think I recall you mentioning it."

"Well anyway, after only being with her a few weeks I decided it would be a great idea for me to write a play and for her to star in it."

She arched her eyebrows. "You're kidding?"

"I wish I was," he said with a slight groan. "But, sadly I'm quite serious. I'll just chalk it up to being naïve and in my early twenties, but yeah I wrote a play and it was completely awful."

Kate laughed, not expecting this. "Oh I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"No seriously," he assured her. "It was awful. Really, really awful."

"Did it ever make it into production?"

"Ah no," Castle told her with a bemused expression. "Before I could ever officially finish it we found out that Meredith was pregnant."

"Ah," Kate nodded, reaching for her wine glass. Some pieces of his life were certainly starting to fall into place now.

"And that was kind of it…I knew I had to get a good job with steady pay and health insurance; I couldn't be a free-lance artist kid in my twenties just seeing how life went. I had to be a real adult," he explained.

"Not a real adult!" she proclaimed with a smile.

He laughed. "I know, right? But seriously—don't get me wrong, Alexis is the best thing that ever happened to me. Even if I had the chance to go back and change things, I wouldn't, but the fact of the matter is her existence did fundamentally change things for Meredith and me. We moved in together, got married and I went into the police academy, which, I should point out, is something Meredith doesn't understand to this day."

Kate nodded with a sad smile; though she knew very little about the woman, this did not surprise her in the least. "So what happened between you guys?"

"Oh you know…we drifted apart. What little we had in common was mainly the artsy side of things and I didn't have time for that anymore. She continued with her acting and ultimately had an affair with her director."

"I'm sorry to her that," Kate informed him.

He shrugged and finished off his wine. "'s okay. It was a long time ago and I'm probably better off for it."

Kate smiled across the couch at her partner, admiring him them more than she ever had. He was a good man—a truly good man. He loved his daughter and wanted to do the best things for her including sacrificing the things that he loved so she could have the best future. Given his tendency for jokes and pranks at work she sometimes forgot the depth of his heart and was glad she had this story as a reminder.

"So," Castle began after several minutes of silence. "Let's talk about you."

"Me?" she laughed lightly, adjusting her position so that she sat sideways on the couch, her back leaning against a pillow and the armrest. She bent her knees and placed her feet in front of her, her toes nudging the edge of Castle's thigh, until he grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs into his lap.

"Yeah, you. What would you be doing if you hadn't become a cop?" he asked. The real question he wanted to ask was: what would you be doing if your mother's death hadn't changed the entire course of your life? Of course, he couldn't ask that question directly without upsetting her, so he hoped his question was veiled enough for her to answer.

Her answer was quick and simple. "Oh, I'd be a lawyer."

"A lawyer?" he asked, intrigued.

She nodded. "I was pre-law at Stanford. I grew up in a law focused house since both of my parents were lawyers."

"So your parents wanted you to be a lawyer then?"

She shrugged. "Sure, I guess, but they never outwardly pushed me into it or anything. I think…I think they probably thought if they pushed me too hard towards law I wouldn't want to do it."

He smiled at her. "Kate Beckett, ever the independent thinker."

"Right," she smiled. "You know it's funny. Back then I never thought of anything other than being a lawyer. I was going to be a lawyer, no question about it. But now…now I can't see myself being anything but a cop."

"Things happen for a reason?" he suggested. Then, when he saw an uncertain flicker cross her face he immediately backtracked. "I mean, not that your mother-"

"No, it's okay," she assured him. "I knew what you meant, and you're right. I'm not a huge believer in that sort of stuff—fate, destiny, higher powers at work—but I can definitely buy into a little bit of 'things happen for a reason.'"

"Oh, I think everything happens for a reason," he informed her. "Like Captain Tuttle at the ninth. If he hadn't been in with those mobsters, I never would have met you."

Kate laughed. "That's one way to think of it."

"So…tell me what you were like in high school."

For the next several hours they talked, laughing and sharing stories about themselves and their past. Kate learned that Castle had been quite mischievous during his youth, which did not surprise her in the least. Oppositely, Castle learned that Kate had a very rebellious period towards the end of her high school days, which shocked him entirely.

It was nearing one thirty in the morning when Castle realized Kate was being more silent than usual during his latest tale. When he spotted her eyes closed and her head resting against the back of the couch, he skimmed his hand against the top of her foot and gently said her name. "Kate? Are you sleeping?"

"Mmm no," she replied in a sluggish voice.

"Yes you are," he told her with amusement. Lifting up her legs, he scooted out from underneath her and stood from the couch. He then slid one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back to scoop her up. She protested, but only verbally; her body was limp in his arms.

Castle carried her back to his bedroom and placed her down on the mattress. With her settled, he returned to the main area of the apartment, turned off all the lights, and picked up her overnight bag from the hall. He carried it with him back to the bedroom, where Kate was sloppily struggling with her jeans. He grabbed the ankle of each pant leg and dragged the item off her body. As he folded them neatly and tossed them atop her bag, she slid under the blankets.

Castle took several moments to undress before switching off the light and joining her beneath the covers. He spooned himself around her and slipped his hand around her waist. Dropping a kiss onto the back of her neck he sighed, "G'night, Kate," but she didn't hear him; she was already asleep.


	15. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

On a Thursday afternoon two weeks after Thanksgiving Kate Beckett sat at her desk slogging through an almost insurmountable amount of paperwork. The prior day, she and her partner had made not one but two arrests, much to the praise of their captain and colleagues. Well, most of their collages. Really, everyone except McCreary.

Earlier in the week, both she and Castle and McCreary and his partner, Landers, were assigned homicide cases that were seemingly unrelated. Kate's and Castle's crime was clearly intertwined with gang activity, so they simply needed to determine which gang member was responsible for the young boy's death (though that was much easier said than done). The other team's murder did not initially seem to be gang related, however, throughout their investigation, Beckett noticed the name of McCreary's victim popping up. The connection was an odd one and a seeming long-shot, but she and Castle made it work, receiving a full confession from each murderer.

While confessions and praises certainly made her day better, the loads of paperwork that came with it did not. Castle was doing his part, of course, but he always seemed to struggle to sit still long enough to fill out all the forms correctly. At one point she asked him how he was ever able to be a writer since creating a report, which was clearly the fraction of the length of one of his books, should have been a breeze. He explained to her that when writing from his own mind he was much more focused, but factual rehash bored him to tears. To give him a reprieve, Kate had sent him to retrieve a mid-afternoon coffee and snack for them both; she got more done when he wasn't around bothering her anyway.

Just as she stood from her chair for a much needed stretch, Kate noticed a red-headed woman approaching. The woman wore a bright blue cheetah print scarf with a leopard print jacket, skinny jeans and knee-high shiny leather boots. At first, Kate thought the woman must be a witness coming in to make her statement, but then, as she drew nearer, Kate realized exactly who she was. The hair, the face shape, and even the way she walked: they all screamed Alexis. This, she deduced, must be Meredith.

"Hi, excuse me," the woman said, approaching Kate looking more like a fish out of water than anything. "I'm looking for Richard Castle. Does he work on this floor?"

"Yes, yes he does. His desk is right there. He, ah, actually just stepped out, but he should be back shortly," Kate explained, gesturing towards the empty desk beside hers. The woman smiled. "I'm Kate—Kate Beckett. I'm actually his partner."

The woman shook Kate's extended had as her eyebrows rose. "You're Ricky's partner? A woman?"

"Ah, yeah," Kate said, unsure whether or not to be offended. "I'm a woman."

"Oh wait! Oh I know! I remember now—Alexis said something. You eat dinner with them sometimes, don't you?" the red-head said in a tone that made it seem like Kate was the homeless woman they charitably let into their home on occasion.

Kate cleared her throat. "I've eaten dinner with them a few times, yes. You're, ah, Alexis's mom?" Though she needed no official confirmation, she thought it polite to ask the question.

"Yes! Yes, I'm sorry—I'm Meredith; Meredith Castle."

Kate forced a smile. "And you…you live on the west coast, don't you?"

"Yes, in California. Actually I just—oh! OH! Ricky! Ricky! Over here kitten!" Meredith called out, bouncing up and down on her toes as she waived her hand high above her head. She acted as though they were in a crowded shopping mall and she had to act dramatically in order for her ex-husband to spot her. Though, in the twelfth precinct this was entirely unnecessary; Castle had seen her the moment he stepped off the elevator.

Kate turned to see her partner approaching, two cups of coffee and a paper bag in hand. He looked like he'd been rammed in the chest with an anvil. Kate suppressed the urge to laugh.

"Me-Meredith," Castle said slowly. He put the coffee cups down on his desk and stared at her as though she may have been a mirage. "W-what are you doing here?"

Meredith giggled and slapped his shoulder playfully. "I came to see you, silly."

"W-why…?"

"Because Alexis isn't out of school yet," Meredith explained in an isn't-it-obvious way. "And I thought I'd come say hi, Kitten. It's been _forever_." She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and smashed her lips against his before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Castle's arms hung limp at his sides as he stared dumbly across the room.

As she watched the scene unfold before her, Kate felt an uncomfortable tension filling her chest. True, she had been looking for a distraction from her paperwork, but this was not exactly what she had in mind. Thinking it was best to stay out of their conversation she reached over, plucked her cup of coffee from Castle's desk, and sat back down in her chair in an attempt to look busy.

It took Castle almost a full minute to regain his senses. When he did, he pushed himself out of Meredith's embrace and stared down at her. "I'm still not quite sure I understand why you're here—in New York."

"Oh, well," Meredith began, sitting on the edge of his desk. "Did Alexis tell you about my new play? It's a traveling show—we're going to hit twenty different states staring in January of next year and I had to come to the city for a costume fitting. Now, why we can't use costumes on the west coast, who knows? But I had to come and I thought, well why not visit my two favorite New Yorkers while I'm here."

"Right…" Though her touching him had confirmed she was not a figment of his imagination, Castle still could not believe that Meredith—Meredith!—was here. In New York. At his office. Just feet away from Kate. This could not possibly end well.

"So, darling, what time does Alexis get out of school?"

"Ah, um…three—three thirty."

Meredith glanced at the clock on her phone and hopped off the desk. "Oh well I'd better be going or I'll be late! I can take her, right? Out to dinner?"

He nodded dumbly. "Yeah, sure…sure that's fine."

"Perf!" She beamed. Then, she scooped up her handbag but before she walked away she leaned in close to Castle and stroked her hand down the center of his chest. "By the way, I'm at the Fairwick, room eight-eighteen if you want to come by and visit later," she told him in a not-so-quiet whisper.

Upon hearing this, Kate nearly choked on her coffee. Unfortunately, her spluttering did not go unnoticed by either Castle or his ex-wife. Trying to be as smooth as she could, Kate stood from her desk and grabbed her jacket. "I…I need to go out for…for something," she said in a tone that wasn't nearly as casual as she hoped it would be. Then, with that, she turned on her heel and headed to the elevator, not once looking back.

* * *

Dr. Lanie Parish looked up when the sounds of clicking heels entered the morgue. She was surprised to see her detective friend approaching. She did not have a body that belonged to one of Kate's cases, nor did she have labs or any other information for the detective. Yet, from the look on her face, Kate was definitely on a mission.

"What's up with you?"

"Me?" Kate responded, almost startled. "Nothing. I just…nothing. I had to get out of the office. Meredith is here."

The ME's brow furrowed. "Who's Meredith?"

"Castle's ex-wife; Alexis's mother."

"Ahhh," Lanie nodded. So that was the emotion etched into her friend's face. "Thought you were looking a little green today."

Kate's brow scrunched. "Green?"

"Jealous."

The detective snorted. "Jealous? Why in the hell would I be jealous?" Of course she wasn't jealous—that was ridiculous.

Lanie stood casually from her seat and approached her friend. "I assume you're looking for an answer other than 'because you're sleeping with him and he used to sleep with her?' Because you are still sleeping with him, correct?"

Kate cleared her throat and turned her eyes towards the ground. "Yeah, sometimes; whatever."

Lanie laughed. "Right; it's almost like I believe you."

The detective chewed on her bottom lip for several moments before saying, "I heard her invite him to her hotel room."

The ME considered this a moment. "And you think he'll go."

She shrugged. "He could go."

"…because you two aren't exclusive," Lanie concluded for her.

Kate nodded. "Right."

"You're just casually having sex."

"Right."

"Every night."

Kate clicked her tongue. "It's not every night."

Lanie groaned and rubbed her hand across her brow. Sometimes, her clueless friend frustrated her to no end. "Kate c'mon! Open your eyes – you're dating him."

Kate held up her hands in immediate defense. "We're not dating. We are partners… with benefits."

The ME rolled her eyes at Kate's official, yet oh-so-wrong position. "So you'd be totally fine if he slept with his ex-wife?" Her friend said nothing, but she did see a flicker of emotion cross her eyes as she bit down on her lower lip. "Ah!" Lanie proclaimed, holding up the index finger of her right hand. "I saw that—you don't want him to."

Kate folded her arms over her chest and with as much casualty as she could muster, she said, "Well, no. I just don't think it's a good idea for him to do that."

"You're frustrating," Lanie said, shaking her head.

"Why?"

"Because you don't see how crazy you're being!"

"I'm not crazy," Kate said simply. In fact, she was the sanest person she knew.

Lanie grumbled and took a step closer to her friend, softening her tone. "Okay, fine. Just hear me out, okay? Would it really be the worst thing in the world if you just…had a conversation about being exclusive?"

Kate refused to entertain such a preposterous notion. "Why would we do that? We don't need to do that. In fact—In fact, I've…I've actually been thinking about stopping this—what we're doing. It's probably not a great idea."

In truth, Kate had been thinking about that for over two weeks—ever since the two consecutive nights she spent at Castle's apartment. Waking up in bed with him. Waking up in bed as he stared at her, smiled at her, and kissed her awake. Eating breakfast in that bed with him. Laughing and making love while their kisses tasted of maple syrup. It all felt a bit too relationship-y for her and that, she knew, was dangerous territory.

Lanie's eyes widened at her friend as she expressed a sarcastic, "Ya think?"

Kate nodded. "Right so…it's just done; we're done."

"You're done sleeping with Castle?" Lanie repeated to confirm her crazy friend's thoughts. When Kate nodded, she continued. "So Castle is totally free to sleep with his ex-wife?"

"Totally," she said with a casual wave to her hand.

Lanie bit her lip and shook her head. "Oh, if only you really believed that."

* * *

When Kate returned to her desk, her partner was nowhere to be found. Upon looking at her email, she realized he'd left her a message stating that he had to deal with "the Meredith situation" and then he'd be back. She finished out the last two and a half hours of her shift, but he never returned.

On her way home that evening, she thought back on her conversation with Lanie and the decree she had made: no more sex with Castle. Was that really what she wanted?

Of course it wasn't what she _wanted_, she answered herself, but that was the exact reason their rendezvous needed to end. She enjoyed their couplings and had come to look forward to them, but that wasn't the kind of casual relationship she wanted. She needed something more casual than what hers and Castle's trysts had turned into. What they had was verging dangerously close to the relationship line and that was too close for her. Particularly since, despite what Lanie said, she had no desire to make Castle her boyfriend officially.

She had only been home a few hours when, much to her surprise, there was a knock at her door; it turned out to be Castle.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him. "I thought you'd be with Meredith."

"Alexis is with Meredith," he informed her as he stepped into her apartment. "They're taking Fifth Avenue by storm. I'm sure Alexis with have some ultra-fashionable and ultra-hideous clothes before the night is out. Seriously, you should see the dress Meredith bought her this spring. Orange—on a red head. Really? What…what's with you?" Castle's voice drifted into a tone of concern when he saw the slightly perturbed and most definitely closed off look on her face.

"Nothing."

Castle pressed his lips together. The word "nothing" coming from a woman's lips was essentially a land mine and ninety-nine percent of the time meant something was wrong. "It's not nothing. Why did you think I'd be with Meredith?"

She shrugged and turned to enter her kitchen, "No reason."

He followed her. "Kate. C'mon, Kate—tell me what's going on?"

Stopping beside her refrigerator, she turned back to him, relenting to the truth. "I…I kind of overheard you guys earlier."

"When earlier?"

"When she told you what room number she was staying in."

Oh.

Well, now suddenly it was all making sense to him except…was it? If Kate was giving him a cold shoulder after overhearing Meredith essentially invite him over to have sex did that mean that she was…jealous? Was that even possible?

Castle stared over at his partner and observed her closed off body language: arms folded over her chest, body angled slightly away from him, eyes downcast. She chewed on her lip like she did when she was anxious or avoiding something. Holy shit—she was jealous!

Castle fought very hard against the urge to clap his hands, laugh, or otherwise outwardly display his glee and pure enjoyment of her jealousy. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

Clearing his throat, he took a step forward. "Look, Kate, I won't lie to you. There was a time after our divorce that Meredith and I would…hook up for lack of a better term, but those days are long over and I won't be starting them again for many reasons the first of which being I don't actually want to; I've surpassed my lifetime limit of crazy with her. Plus, even if I wanted to I wouldn't. Meredith told Alexis over Thanksgiving that she broke things off with her alleged fiancé and I have no desire to be her rebound sex guy."

Kate looked up at him and shrugged. "Rebound sex can be fun."

Castle let out a loud laugh. "Oh, sex with Meredith was fun, but nothing else was—trust me. That's what I like most about you—you're pleasantly sane."

She couldn't help but mirror the smile he gave her. Then, with the nod of her head, she confessed, "Oh I can have my crazy moments."

He shook his head very seriously. "Uh, no, you haven't seen crazy until you come home and find all your belongings piled out in the hall of the apartment building, because your wife woke up and decided the apartment walls should be painted neon yellow. And when I say neon yellow I mean I'm pretty sure she somehow managed to find the same paint they use to put the lines on the street."

Kate considered this for a moment. Assuming the paint wasn't actually the street-line-painting paint (which she very much doubted it was) she didn't see too much wrong with that scenario. Playing the devil's advocate she said, "She wanted to redecorate—that's nice."

"Yeah, for five seconds. That's the Meredith way. She only painted half of one wall before she got bored. Then, on another wall, she decided to paint her own interpretation of scenes from the Kama Sutra."

Not expecting this, Kate laughed. "Oh."

Castle grumbled and ran his hand across his brow. Come to think of it, thought it was over a decade later he was _still_ mad about that one. Just so Kate fully understood, he continued the story. "Alexis was two and a half; she asked what they were."

With this information, Kate's expression fell. "Oh."

"Yeah…"

"So what happened?"

He shrugged. "I asked her to paint over them; she didn't so I had to."

Kate nodded solemnly and gazed down at the floor. He sounded like a better person than she was; if that had happened to her, the guy responsible probably wouldn't have come through without injury. "I'm sorry that happened."

"Yeah well, it certainly isn't one of my fonder memories of her," he confessed. Taking a step forward, he reached out his hands and placed one on each of her arms. Stoking her biceps lightly he said, "Now you see why I won't be jumping in to bed with her again."

Kate nodded. Then, for her own peace of mind she added. "For the record, you could if you wanted to. I mean, I wouldn't mind."

Castle gazed at her suspiciously. He heard her words, but from her tone he very much doubted that would be the case. As he was enjoying this brief glimpse into the jealous side of her, he decided not to call her out on it. "No thanks," he told her. Then, he leaned down and kissed her.

Though she kissed him back, she made sure their kiss was brief before she stepped away from him and turned to walk into her sitting room. "What's wrong?" he asked as he followed her.

"Nothing." She sighed, thinking back to her earlier decision. Without facing him, she continued. "It's just…maybe we shouldn't do this."

Castle's brow wrinkled. "What? Why? Because of Meredith?"

Kate turned around, shaking her head. "No…not her. I just…I'm not really in the mood." Okay, it was a lame excuse. A horribly lame excuse, but she wasn't sure she was quite ready to say the words 'I don't want to sleep with you anymore—ever.' A decision like that required more thought.

Castle smiled a slow, enticing smile at her. He walked over, slid his arms around her back and skimmed them down to cup her ass. "Are you sure? Because you always seem to be in the mood," he said, giving her ass a gentle squeeze.

She put her hand, palm flat, in the center of his chest and he stepped back. "Not tonight, Castle."

He shrugged and took two steps towards the door. "Suit yourself; I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said distantly as the door shut behind him. "Tomorrow…"


	16. Chapter 15

_A/N: I see a lot of comments questioning what Kate is doing/whether or not they'll break up. All I have to say is you're going to have to trust me; I promise you'll see some concrete answers to your questions within a few chapters. Thanks for reading :)_

* * *

**Fifteen**

Saturday, two days after hurricane Meredith blew into town, Kate was back at her desk at the precinct. Technically, she was not on duty that day, but as it was nearing holiday time, more and more people were taking vacation and being short staffed meant less time to catch up on her favorite things: emails and paperwork. As she had no other commitments that day, Kate felt putting in a few hours at her desk would be the best use of her time.

Some days—okay most days—she loathed coming in when she didn't technically have to be there, but the planner in her appreciated this diligence. She never knew when a tough case would come up that would monopolize all of her time. Or, god forbid, an interesting social outing arose. If she didn't have her paperwork completed, she couldn't participate, so she liked to get it done when she could, even if that did make her a slave to her desk on occasion.

That Saturday, shortly before eleven a.m. Kate sat at her desk, earbuds in her ears. The playlist on her phone was shuffling in Christmas tunes: instrumental as well as vocal. She hummed along to some of her favorites and skipped over others. Just as she was passing over the third version of "Silent Night" she heard that hour, she looked up and was surprised to see a red-head approaching. At least this time it was the one she preferred.

Plucking the headphones from her ears, Kate smiled. "Alexis, what are you doing here?"

The girl stopped beside Kate's desk. "Is my dad here? I heard him getting ready for work this morning."

Kate turned her chair to face the girl directly. "Actually, he's not here. He's at a training seminar today." Training seminar…refresher course in police protocols to avoid disciplinary action for excessive force—that was the same thing, right? In truth, she couldn't blame her partner for giving that particular perp a bloody nose. He was a child rapist and murderer who made Kate's skin crawl. In her mind, he was the lowest form of human being and, quite frankly, she was glad Castle had punched him out after the man had described his six-year-old victim as "delicious." But the young girl didn't need to know about any of that.

Upon hearing this news, Alexis's face fell. "Oh. Okay then."

Her heart breaking from the girl's crestfallen expression, Kate asked, "Is…is there something I can help you with?"

Alexis sighed heavily. "Well, see…my mom…my mom was supposed to take me ice skating today, but something came up and she had to go, so she dropped me off here because I told her my dad was working. I guess…I guess I'll just go home."

Kate dragged her teeth across her bottom lip as she watched the girl turn to walk away. She had never seen anyone so crushed. Though she had no reason to, she felt irrationally guilty for not stepping in to assist the child. Meredith, as she well knew, was not the most spectacular parent; this was far from her first disappointment, but it was the first Kate directly knew about.

"Alexis, ah, wait," she said. The girl turned back to her, though she still wore a frown. "I don't…I don't suppose you'd want me to take you ice skating?"

The younger girl's face brightened immediately. "Really? I mean, don't you have to work?"

"Actually, no. I mean, I'm just about finished."

"Great!" Alexis proclaimed, rushing forward to pick up Kate's hand. "Let's go!"

"Whoa wait," Kate said, digging in her feet to stop the girl. She looked back, wounded. "I just need a few more minutes to finish up, okay?"

The red-head beamed. "Okay! I'll wait!" And then, she climbed up in Kate's guest chair swinging her feet wildly and smiling around the room.

* * *

"I have to tell you," Kate began her confession as they arrived at the outdoor rink in Central Park. "I haven't been ice skating since I went with my mom."

Alexis looked up at her. "How long ago was that?"

"Over ten years," Kate replied. Ten years. A decade. Some days, she felt as though she'd heard her mother's laughter just hours earlier. Others, she felt as though she could barely remember the woman's face without looking at pictures. Those were the days that scared her the most; she never wanted to lose those memories.

"Wow!" Alexis proclaimed. "That's long! Doesn't your mom want to go anymore?"

Kate's expression saddened as she looked at the girl. "My mother died ten years ago."

Alexis's mouth formed a large O-shape and she clapped her hands on her cheeks. "Oh my gosh—I'm so sorry!"

Kate shook her head and patted the girl's shoulder. "It's okay; you didn't know." Then, turning towards the rink full of ice she asked, "So, should we rent our skates?"

Though it was just barely noon, the rink was already heavily crowded, mostly with families: mothers and daughters, parents with a teetering child between them, fathers and sons roughhousing. A few teen boys with a too-cool-for-school look in their eyes wore skates but stood on the exterior of the rink pointing and laughing at everyone who fell. Two girls Kate guessed to be around eight stayed towards the center of the rink practicing turns and other figure skating moves. All of them seemed to be happy and having a good time.

When they got up to the skate rental window, Kate put her hand in her back pocket to pull out the folded wad of money she stuck there, but Alexis surprised her but thrusting a twenty dollar bill clutched in her mitten-covered hand through the rental window. Kate stammered out that the girl did not have to pay for her skate rental, but Alexis insisted saying, "You're the one spending your Saturday with me; there's probably something else you'd rather be doing."

"There isn't," Kate promised, brushing back a chunk of her orange hair from her face. "Trust me, if it wasn't this, I'd be at home—cleaning my bathroom."

Alexis mirrored the scrunched-nose expression Kate gave her and proclaimed, "Eww!"

They took their skates to one of the open benches and sat to put them on. Before she finished lacing hers, Kate dipped her hand in her coat pocket to check her cell phone. Just before they left the precinct, she had texted Castle to inform him that Meredith had bailed on plans with their daughter and she was taking the girl skating instead. Cell phones weren't allowed in Castle's training seminar, but she thought he might check his messages over his lunch break. Upon seeing she had no missed messages, Kate tucked the phone back in her pocket and leaned over to lace up her skates.

Once they were both ready to go, Kate walked with Alexis to the ice and stepped on gingerly. She attempted to glide forward, but felt her ankles wobbling. Okay, it was definitely going to take a little while to get used to skating again.

"So, ah, do you come skating a lot?" Kate asked as they made their first loop around the rink.

"Not a lot. I like to come at least a few times during the winter—to the outdoor rink. And then sometimes the summer camps I go to will take us to a rink once or twice. I usually have to go by myself, though. I mean, dad comes with me, but he prefers to watch from the sidelines; he's not very good at skating."

Kate chuckled lightly at the girl's tone. Given Castle's large stature and his bumbling, klutzy tendencies, this did not surprise her. "What about your grandmother?"

"Gran always says she's much too old to do things like skating, except she doesn't call herself old—she calls herself classic or experienced," Alexis explained. "She also told me, 'Kid, when you get to be my age you can pick and choose what you want to do and I don't choose to do this.'"

"That sounds like something my father would say," Kate told her with a laugh, recalling several similar statements from her father during a conversation about his last vacation.

"Is your dad the same age as my gran?" Alexis asked.

"I don't know. Possibly. He might be a few years younger, though," Kate rationalized knowing the ten year age gap between her and her partner.

They skated another lap before Alexis asked, "Do you have a big family, Kate?"

"Oh no, not really. I'm an only child and I don't really have any cousins I'm close to. My dad has a sister I usually see at holidays, but that's about it," she explained to the girl.

"Me too," Alexis said. "It's just Dad, Gran and I. And my mom…kind of."

Though the girl mumbled the last two words, Kate heard them and she couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. On one hand, perhaps for the first time, she truly understood Castle's anger. Alexis was a great kid—how could her mother, who saw her not nearly enough, not want to spend time with her when she could? It just seemed so absurd. Not to mention the simple standpoint of breaking plans. There was nothing Kate hated more than people who backed out on plans at the last minute for no reason other than their own selfish interests.

Oh the other hand, Kate wasn't sure she could fully relate to the girl. Growing up, she had two parents that loved her very much, and did everything they could for her. She couldn't even fathom her mother or her father not being around, especially during her formative years.

"You know, Alexis," she said, "I'm very sorry your mother couldn't be here with you today."

Alexis shrugged. "'s okay. I mean, I did just visit her in California, so it's not like I haven't seen her." Alexis slowed her skating so she was almost at a standstill. Not wanting to disrupt the other skaters, Kate guided them over to the side of the rink where they wouldn't be run into.

"It's just," Alexis continued. "Sometimes, I feel like she doesn't actually want to hang out with me—like she's doing stuff with me only because she feels like she has to."

"I'm sure that isn't true. In fact, when I met her the other day she was very excited to see you—it's all she talked about."

The red-head lifted her eyes to look at Kate. "You met my mom?"

The elder woman nodded. "Mmmhm, when she came to the twelfth looking for your dad."

Alexis's expression fell. "Oh. That was the first day she was here. Her enthusiasm usually drops off after that."

Kate wasn't sure what else to say to that, so she decided the best course of action would be to change the subject. "How about we talk about something else, okay? Why don't…why don't you tell me a story about your dad?"

"What kind of story?" Alexis asked as they began skating again.

"I dunno. A funny one? I bet you have a bunch of those."

To say that Alexis had a bunch of funny stories about Castle was a large understatement. Within just a few minutes, Kate was laughing so hard that she could hardly continue skating. All of the qualities her partner possessed—endearing, crazy, or otherwise—were magnified to hilarious levels through the eyes of his child.

They skated and talked for half an hour more before Alexis announced she was getting tired and hungry. Kate's aching feet and ankles were eternally grateful for this. They returned their skates and put back on their regular shoes, though Kate found herself limping for the first few minutes of walking in her boots once more.

On their way to find food, Kate checked her phone and found Castle had replied to her message, thanking her for what she had done and telling her he expected to be home from his seminar at four and she could return Alexis to his apartment at any time that afternoon. Once again, Kate's irrational guilt would not let her abandon the girl so, after they ate, they walked around the city until three thirty when they made their way back towards lower Manhattan. They arrived back at the Castle apartment just minutes before Alexis's father did.

"Hi pumpkin!" the detective said, pulling his daughter into a crushing bear hug. "How was your day?"

"Really fun! Kate took me skating and then we had lunch and went shopping—it was great!"

Castle smiled at his daughter before glancing over to his partner, who was leaning against the kitchen doorway. Her hair was a bit messier than usual and she looked exhausted, but she was smiling, so that was probably a good sign. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, why don't you go get washed up so you can help me with dinner?"

"Okay!"

She took off at lightning speed towards her room, but Castle stopped her by calling out her name. Alexis skidded to a halt and turned back to face the adults. "What do you say to Kate?"

Alexis ran back to the female detective and nearly plowed into her. She used her arms like lobster claws around Kate's waist and pulled the older woman into a hug. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" With that, she ran back to her room.

Kate and Castle shared a soft laugh once she was gone. "How was it, really?" he asked her.

"It was fine," Kate assured him.

"You didn't have to, you know. Take her skating and then to lunch…" Truthfully, he couldn't believe she had done any of it. It wasn't as though he viewed her as an uncaring person—quite the opposite in fact. But being kind and caring and willingly spending the day with someone else's twelve-year-old completely unprompted were two different things.

"I know, but it was kind of fun. Plus, she just looked so sad when she told me Meredith bailed on her," Kate confessed.

Castle nodded with a knowing smile. "Ah yes. My daughter knows how to work the sad puppy face, doesn't she?"

"That she does." Kate was silent for a moment, wringing her hands together, before she continued. "It's just…she told me she doesn't think Meredith actually likes spending time with her and she only does it out of obligation."

Castle sighed and slid his hands down into his pockets. "That doesn't surprise me. She's always been the idea person—'Oh, this will be fun; let's do this,' but she has no idea how to follow through. Her attention span is gone like that," Castle said, snapping his fingers, "but Alexis doesn't work that way. If you say you want to take her skating, and you go, and then five minutes later you want to leave but Alexis doesn't want to it just…it doesn't work. Course, I guess in this scenario they never even made it that far."

Kate gave him a soft smile and then, unsure of what to say to make it better, she stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist.

Castle hugged her back and dropped a kiss onto her head. "You kind of saved the day, you know that?"

She let out an embarrassed laugh into his shoulder. "I didn't."

"You did. And," Castle pulled back, resting his hands on her shoulders, "I think that means you deserve an extra special thank you." He wiggled his eyebrows in a naughty manner at her.

Kate laughed. "Well, as interesting as that sounds, I don't know if I can. I'm kind of exhausted."

Castle stroked her arms. Though he wouldn't say it out loud, he didn't disagree that was exactly how she looked. "Not really used to kids, are you?"

Kate shook her head and skimmed her hands across her face. She hadn't felt it while she was alone with Alexis, but now that they were back at her home and it was quieter, exhaustion was pouring over her like a bucket of water dousing her head. "She talks. A lot."

Castle laughed loudly. "That she does. She kind of gets it from me."

"I noticed," she said with a playful smile. Then, she took two steps towards the door. "I guess I'll be-"

"Wait," Castle said, grabbing onto her hand. "Don't you want to stay for dinner?"

"Oh, no, really, Castle I'm beat," she assured him.

Nodding, he followed her to the door. Just as she was stepping out, he said, "Kate—I really do owe you for this one."

She smiled back at him. "Please tell Alexis I said goodbye." He nodded. "Okay…g'night Castle."

"Goodnight, Kate."


	17. Chapter 16

**Sixteen**

"Oh my god; I'm starving," Castle proclaimed as he and his partner made their way through midtown. As he had won their latest round of rock-paper-scissors, he was behind the wheel on their return trip to the twelfth. They were on their way back from a crime scene that had been reported as a suspected homicide. When they arrived and found a note atop a pile of several "Final Notice: Payment Due" bills, they had turned the case over to another team as it did not require their investigation. Unfortunately, that was not even the first suicide they had come across in the prior week. Sad as it was, those always increased around holiday time.

Kate eyed her partner suspiciously. "Didn't you just eat on the way there?"

"Yeah but that was only a snack," he said, rubbing his growling belly.

"A snack...after lunch."

He gazed at her sideways. "What are you trying to say, Beckett?"

She smirked at him. "That you're not a bear; you don't have to increase your waistline for winter hibernation."

"Ouch," he laughed at her. "I'll have you know that I only put on a few pounds, but those are totally allowed; it's my holiday weight."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Sure."

A block later, Castle pulled their cruiser over into an empty space in front of a chain burger store. "Want anything? Fries? Nuggets? A double with cheese?"

"I'm good, Castle," she assured him. She watched as he stepped up onto the sidewalk and entered the restaurant. With a long exhale, she rested her head back against the seat and drummed her fingertips against the door handle. What was it about this time of year?

Just a few days before Christmas, the New York sidewalks were crowded with people bundled up in coats and scarves. Many of them laughed and smiled as they bumped their way along, holding on tightly to packages of wrapped goods. Everyone was bright and cheerful; everyone except her.

Rationally, Kate knew this was because ever since her mother's death Christmas had been a difficult time for her. Such a momentous holiday would have been hard without a parent no matter the situation, but since her mother had died not twenty days after Christmas, when the decorations in her parent's home were still on full display, December twenty-fifth was even more overshadowed by the event.

It took Kate years to be able to look at a Christmas tree or decoration without feeling sad. As it was, she couldn't bring herself to put one up in her apartment. She had a few winter decorations that she put out: snowflakes, candles, and even a poinsettia, but she hadn't gone full-scale Christmas in over a decade. The only Christmas-related thing she could do was listen to the music; somehow, that had not been tarnished.

Unfortunately for her, her partner was practically St. Nick himself. Castle _loved_ Christmas; positively adored it. It was his favorite time of year and he made that abundantly clear by decorating his desk and apartment as well. Much to her chagrin, his constant Christmas cheer was slowly winning her over. With only two days to go, it was too late to get a tree that year, but perhaps she would get one the next.

Kate's holiday thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a series of screams and movement she noticed out of the corner of her eye. Whipping her head towards the sidewalk, she saw an atypical amount of commotion inside the golden arches chain restaurant Castle had entered not two minutes earlier. Her body now on full alert, Kate stared into the windows of the building, trying to see what was going on. Then, she saw it.

A man with a thick beard and long, unruly hair, stood in the middle of the restaurant, right arm raised above him, gun in hand. All around him, restaurant patrons crouched down and cowered away. Some of them screamed and cried. The man with the gun was clearly yelling, though Kate could not understand what he was saying.

Propelled into action by adrenaline, Kate reached for the radio in the car and called into dispatch. She reported a robbery in progress with potential hostages at her location and requested backup. Then, she pulled out her phone and pressed the speed dial for her partner.

Holding the device to her ear, Kate craned her neck to see into the building. As she leaned forward in her seat, she was able to see him for the first time as her view had previously been obstructed by a divider between window panes. Unfortunately, catching sight of her partner did not ease her tension.

Castle, it appeared, was front and center for the event. While most of the restaurant occupants crouched down or remained seated, Castle stood towards the front of the restaurant by the register. He had his hands outstretched before him in a defensive stance and he was clearly trying to reason with the gun-wielding man.

Kate saw the exact moment his phone began ringing, because the detective looked down towards the pocket of his coat. "C'mon Castle," she coached, "answer."

The gunman pointed his weapon towards Castle and shook it. She watched as Castle shook his head and pointed towards his jacket. Damn. She was too far away to read his lips and thus had no idea what he was saying. Her heart rate increased as she tightened her grip on her phone.

Finally, she saw him reaching very slowly into his pocket. He held out his phone to the gunman and pressed a button. A second later, she heard his voice; he was talking to her with his phone on speaker mode. "Hey Beckett. Just need another few minutes; sorry its taking longer than I thought."

"You okay, Castle?" she responded.

"Me? I'm cool as a cucumber. See you soon." With that, she watched Castle hang up the phone and immediately sprang into action.

When Castle had first posed the idea to her that they needed to come up with a code word or phrase, she naturally thought he was insane. Granted, at that point, early in their partnership, she found many of the things he did insane, so this was just one more thing to add to the list. (In truth, over a year later, she wasn't sure she understood it much better, but that was due in large part to the fact that many of the things he did were far off the normal scale.) "Cool as cucumber" was Castle's phrase to indicate danger and, for whatever reason, she remembered that he assured her he would only use it if something was very wrong.

Though she had called in for backup, Kate wanted to be ready just in case. She casually got out of the car, hoping not to draw the attention of the gunman inside the restaurant, and walked to the trunk. From it, she pulled her bullet proof vest and secured it on her body. Then, she took it upon herself to secure the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Though she hated taking her eyes off Castle, she knew she had to make sure no civilians were walking in front of the glass front of the restaurant just in case the gunman discharged his weapon.

Five minutes later, the cavalry arrived. While Kate appreciated the backup, from the looks of things all the sirens and collection of police cars had spooked the gunman as he was now turning in circles and pointing his gun wildly. Kate calmly helped the uniformed officers rope off the street before finding the lead team member of the hostage negotiation squad.

"Sir, I'm Detective Kate Beckett, twelfth precinct homicide. My partner, Detective Richard Castle, is inside the restaurant," she explained to the man who had identified himself as Captain Peterson.

"We've got a man inside?" Peterson asked.

Kate nodded. "Yes sir. He's wearing the brown jacket standing by the register in the front of the restaurant."

Peterson scanned the scene inside the building and nodded when he spotted the detective. "Have you spoken to him since this began?"

"Yes, sir, but he wasn't able to give me any useful information. It looked like the suspect made him answer the call on speaker."

"Well, thank you, Detective; I can take it from here."

Before he could walk away, Kate stopped him. "Ah, sir, isn't there anything I can do?"

The man chuckled in an almost condescending way at her. "As a trained homicide? 'Fraid not. Why don't you go help these boys with crowd control?"

"Sir," Kate stopped him again, a bit more forcefully this time. "My partner is in there."

"I understand that and it's my job to get everyone out of there safely," Peterson said simply. Then, he walked away.

For a moment, Kate stood frozen in the middle of the street. If there was one thing she hated more than being treated a silly woman instead of a well-praised cop it was feeling useless. In a crisis, she needed to do something; keep busy. Without staying busy, her mind would wander. She would think of worst case scenarios. Like Castle being shot. Having to face Alexis with the news. And having to go home alone after it was all over.

After taking a moment to collect herself, Kate walked to the end of the block to make sure all the barricades had been set up appropriately. When she confirmed they had, she walked back to the center of the street and stared into the restaurant. For the most part, the scene remained unchanged: all the civilians were crouched down or seated while Castle and the man holding the gun stood in the center of it all.

Kate watched as Castle dipped his hand into his pocket once more and retrieved his cell phone. She looked to her left at the command center and spotted Captain Peterson on the phone. From this she deduced Peterson was attempting to call the suspect to reason with him and was using Castle's phone to do this as it was the most quickly accessible.

Turning her eyes back to the restaurant, she watched Castle answer the cell on speaker as he had before. This time, after she watched his lips move, he held the phone out to face the gunman, obviously trying to get him to speak to the hostage negotiator. The gunman brought both hands to his head and shook it violently. Though she was not adept at lip reading, Kate believed he was saying the word no over and over again. After just a few seconds of this, all hell broke loose.

While cradling his head with his hands, the suspect evidently squeezed his fingers tight enough for the gun to fire. All occupants of the restaurant screamed and the gunman himself appeared shocked. Due to her training, Kate hit the ground, but she raised her head enough to see inside the restaurant. Though the scene was chaotic, Castle appeared to be trying to calm the man, though that clearly wasn't working.

Kate watched as the suspect dropped the gun, shoved into Castle and then disappeared from sight. She was the first one on her feet as the danger had now passed; it was time to move in. Then, a thought hit her. The man was going out the back of the restaurant into the alley; he was going to escape. With this notion in mind, Kate took off running towards the nearest side street.

* * *

Richard Castle picked up the discarded weapon from the cracked tile floor of the restaurant and sighed. This certainly was not how he saw his afternoon going. On the bright side, he wasn't hungry anymore.

"It's okay, everyone," he announced loudly. "It's fine. It's-"

Before he could get out another word half a dozen officers breached the door of the building, weapons drawn as they shouted, "Nobody move!"

Castle held one hand up and the gun out to his side by the edge of the handle, muzzle pointing at the ground. "I'm a cop," he announced. "Suspect went out the back through the kitchen."

A fresh-faced man with clear terror in his eyes approached Castle. "Put your weapon down! Put it down now!"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes Castle dropped the gun onto the counter beside the cash register. "I'm a cop," he repeated. "My badge is on my belt. I'm going to open my jacket and show it to you." In a slow, over dramatic manner, Castle pulled back the right side of his jacket to reveal the gold shield on his belt loop.

The rookie cop lowered his weapon. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," Castle told him. "Let's just get these people out of here."

Out on the street, Castle made his way to the emergency response team van. Before he could begin to look for his partner, he was intercepted by a stout balding man. "You Castle?"

"I am," he responded.

"Peterson; we spoke briefly on the phone."

"Oh yeah; that went well," Castle responded sarcastically. "Do you know where my partner is? Beckett?"

"The lady cop?" Peterson asked; Castle bobbed his head. "She's around here somewhere; told her to stay out of the way."

"Ooh I bet she loved that," Castle responded under his breath. He walked back to their squad car, thinking she might be inside, but she wasn't. He stood by the driver's door for a moment, scanning the crowded street for her, when he saw a cluster of officers approaching from his left side.

There, at the center of the group, was the armed man from inside the restaurant. Thankfully, his hands were cuffed behind his back. This, however, was not at all what Castle's eyes focused on. Instead, his eyes fell to his partner. More specifically, her bleeding lip, nose and forehead. He rushed over to her.

"Jesus, Beckett—what happened?"

"He tried to get away," she replied simply. She walked past him, but Castle refused to accept this as the only explanation for her condition. He chased after her, but she would not face him again until she had passed off their suspect to the emergency response team members. "I'm fine, Castle; really. He almost got the drop on me, but it's all good. You don't," she tapped the underside of her nose gingerly. "You don't have a tissue, do you?"

Castle began frantically searching each of his pockets until he procured a white paper object. "Napkin?" he offered.

She took it. "Close enough." She wiped the underside of her nose. Then, when she grazed her lip, she winced.

Castle's expression reflected hers. "Kate, you should have these EMT guys check you out."

"What? No; I'm fine. What about you? What the hell happened in there?"

Castle stuffed his hands back in his pockets as he looked towards the restaurant. "Dunno, really. The guy wasn't in line, but he was just standing in the middle of the restaurant when I walked in. He looked real paranoid, but I didn't want to confront him or anything. Then, I guess, maybe he saw my badge when I reached into my pocket for my wallet and he freaked out. He pulled the gun from behind his back and started waiving it around. People panicked—I'm sure you can figure out the rest."

"He freaked out even more when the hostage negotiator tried to call him?" Kate guessed.

Her partner bobbed his head. "Yep. I don't think he meant to fire the gun. I-"

"Hey! Hey you! Homicide cops!"

Castle and Kate's conversation was interrupted by Peterson unceremoniously addressing them. "Over here! We need your statements!"

"Oh, now he needs us," Kate said pointedly; Castle chuckled.

* * *

After spending another hour on the street in front of the fast food restaurant, Castle and Kate were finally cleared to leave the scene. Kate informed her partner that she was going home, but he refused to let her. Her face was still covered in dried blood and someone needed to clean her up. Evidently, that someone needed to be him.

Mostly because she was too tired to argue, Kate allowed Castle to drive them to his apartment. As she had not yet seen her reflection in anything other than the passenger side window of the car, Kate did not fully understand the gruesome appearance of her face until they walked into his kitchen and, upon sight of her, Alexis's face went white.

"Oh my god, Kate!" she proclaimed. "What happened to you?"

"Alexis," her father said. His tone was warning and it told her to speak no more, but the girl couldn't help herself.

"Is she alright?" she asked her father.

"I'm fine, Alexis; thank you," Kate told her gently.

"Sweetie? Why don't you fill the kettle and put it on the stove so Kate can have some tea. I'm going to help her get cleaned up." The red-head nodded to her father, and had already retrieved the kettle by the time Castle put his arm around Kate to lead her down the hall to the bathroom.

"I can clean myself up, Castle," she said with an air of stubbornness.

"I know," he replied simply. He pushed open the bathroom door and let her step inside first.

Kate stopped no more than a foot inside the bathroom and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Holy shit; she looked awful.

From the very edge of her hairline above her right eye a gash could be scene. From it, a river of dried, crusted blood trailed down her forehead. It stopped at her eyebrow and then trickled down toward her temple. Her nose was already starting to bruise on the one side. Leaning a bit closer to the mirror, she prodded it with her fingertip before sucking her breath in with a wince. It definitely hurt, though not enough to actually be broken.

Though she'd cleaned most the blood off her nostrils and the space between her nose and lip, the shadow of a red substance could be seen there. Her upper lip was also cut and swelling. Simply put: she looked like a mess.

"Go ahead and sit down on the toilet lid," Castle told her gently.

As she had forgotten he was there, his voice startled her and she jumped. When she did so, her hands skimmed across the countertop and the fingers of her left hand bumped into something that clattered against the top of the counter. Looking down, Kate saw that it was a pink Hello Kitty toothbrush holder. Fortunately, it hadn't broken when it fell. "Oh," Kate said, quickly righting the cup.

It was then she noticed all the other things sitting around the bathroom. Hair brushes and hair clips. A comb with the name "Alexis" imprinted on the top in pink sparkles. A few tiny bottles of glittering nail polish. These items lit up as though a spotlight suddenly shone on each of them.

Kate had used the only bathroom in the Castle apartment before. Many times, in fact, particularly when she spent the night, but for some reason these tiny things were striking her now. Little girl things. Alexis's things.

Castle was a family man; a man whose sole mission was to care for and provide for his daughter. And what was she? Who was she? Invading their lives. Eating dinner with them. Spending the night in his bed in the room just beside his daughter's.

Suddenly, it all felt very wrong to her. Castle shouldn't feel the need to take care of her; she could take care of herself. He had someone else more important to care for.

"I…" She began softly. "I…I really shouldn't be here."

She turned around on the spot to face the man who had snuck in the tight space behind her. His brow wrinkled. "What? Why?" Shaking off her baseless concerns he gestured to the toilet. "Just have a seat and-"

"No, I. I shouldn't be here…be involved."

"Involved?" his brow wrinkled even further. "Involved in what?"

Kate looked at him. She just looked at him; she didn't say a word, but somehow he understood.

Oh. _Oh_.

This conversation? The "We're sleeping together; should we really be doing that?" conversation. This was _definitely_ not the time to have that conversation. He wasn't ready for it—particularly not after the events of that evening—and deep down he didn't think she was ready either.

She had been acting differently the prior few weeks—that was for sure. At first, he brushed it off as the oddness of Meredith's brief reappearance in his life, but the longer it went on he didn't think that was the reason. What the true reason was, he didn't know, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know either. Quite frankly, he was terrified to bring it up.

Kate was skittish about defining herself as being in a relationship—that much was plain. What they had, well, to him, it was a hell of a lot more than a casual relationship, but he couldn't tell her that. He may not have been the wisest when it came to women, but he knew enough to know that would probably scare her off and he didn't want that.

They'd made so much progress together. Her walls were down more often than they were up. At least, up until the previous few weeks. At that exact moment, however, he looked into her eyes and saw they were almost gone entirely.

Castle lifted his hands and slid them against her neck, cradling her jaw. Choosing his words carefully, he told her, "Kate, you are involved. We're involved; we're partners."

"I know," she said quietly. "It's just…I'm not used to being around a family."

His heart broke for her and how alone she must have felt particularly at that time of year—around the holidays. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could there was a knock at the bathroom door. "I have tea," a tiny voice said.

Castle smiled and pulled his hands away from Kate. "Thanks sweetie," he told his daughter. He took the tea mug from her and passed it over to his partner. Then, he nodded to the toilet. "Sit, please."

Warm mug cradled in her grasp, Kate sat down on the toilet lid. She sipped the tea as Castle busied himself collecting first aid supplies. Only when he handed her a warm, wet washcloth to wipe off her nose did she set the mug down. "So you wanna tell me what really happened?" he asked her gently, dropping one knee to the ground so he was at a better angle to examine her face.

"Nothing all that interesting," she explained. "I was trying to find him in the alley and he knocked into me. Unfortunately he knocked me into the railing of a fire escape." Castle grimaced, but she continued. "And then when I tried to cuff him he punched me."

"I feel like it should concern me how casually you speak about physical violence," Castle said to her. She laughed and her lip spit open, causing her to wince. "Careful, Kate," he warned her.

As he cleaned and subsequently dabbed antiseptic on the cut near her hairline, he pointed out that the gash was rather large and probably should have had stitches. She told him it would be fine and she didn't care if there was a scar; her hair would cover it.

Once her face was cleaned of blood and her wounds addressed, Castle offered her something to eat, but she refused, saying she just wanted to go home and go to bed. Castle rebutted this, telling her there was no way he was letting her leave. They had a staring contest for several moments before she relented and agreed to spend the night.

As she didn't much feel like being social, Kate went directly to Castle's bedroom while he made himself a sandwich and assured Alexis once again that Kate would be fine and there was no reason to worry about her. When Castle entered his bedroom twenty minutes later, he found Kate sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed. She wore one of his t-shirts and had one of the bed blankets tucked around her lap. Though she appeared to be staring blankly at the opposite wall, she looked at him when he walked in.

"Were you scared?" she asked gently.

"When? In the restaurant?" he asked; she nodded. "Scared? Please." He pushed his hand away in a flippant manner.

"Castle." She spoke in a tone as serious as he'd ever heard from her.

Dropping his jokester attitude, he sat down beside her on the bed. "Sure, I was scared, but not for me; for Alexis. If anything would ever happen to me…"

"Your mother would take her, wouldn't she?"

He nodded. "Yes, that is how my will is written since I have sole custody of Alexis, but Meredith…she'd make things complicated."

Kate nodded. After having met the woman and had a brief glimpse of how she acted with the Castle family, she understood this now more than ever. After a minute of silence she confessed to him, "I was scared."

He tilted his head, curious. "You were? Why?"

She gazed up at him with emotion filled eyes. "Because I wasn't in there with you."

Castle felt his gut clench when their eyes met. There was only one way to describe the look in her eyes, but he wasn't sure he wanted to utter the word for fear it would taint their moment with uncertainty and trepidation. Instead, he skimmed his hand beneath her jaw and stroked her cheek with his thumb. In a voice barely above a whisper he said, "You're here with me now."

That night, when Castle lowered his lips to hers, Kate didn't even think about pulling back or pushing him away. She sunk against him, into his embrace and let him roll her back against her mattress and cover her body with his. She wanted him then more than ever.

Almost three weeks had passed since they last slept together, which was the longest amount of time they went without sex since they began their affair six months earlier. Kate was fully responsible for their break as she'd been wrestling with the idea of ending their physical relationship. Castle had been patient if not a bit persistent, though he had never asked her what was going on.

In truth, Kate wasn't sure she could have explained it to him even if he had asked. That explanation would have required her to reveal things about herself she wasn't sure she was ready to share with him—with anyone.

Castle was her partner and her friend. He made her laugh and smile. He made her into a better cop; a better person. And, as she helplessly watched him inside that restaurant earlier that day, all she could wonder was if the last conversation she would ever have with him would involve her teasing him for gaining weight. She didn't want that. She didn't want a last conversation. She wanted—no, needed—him to stay with her; be her partner.

She knew that ultimately she would need to address those feelings, but for that night the only thing she wanted to focus on was his lips against hers. His fingertips roaming every inch of her body. His strong arms around her. The perfect synchronization of their hips. And, how for the very first time, it felt as though they weren't just having sex, but making love.

* * *

_A/N: Sigh. I love this chapter._

_Also, thanks to **lordofkavaka **for the new cover art!_


	18. Chapter 17

**Seventeen**

Richard Castle gripped onto the door handle of his partner's apartment door and twisted it. When it turned and the door opened easily, he smiled. Perfect.

She had promised to leave the door unlocked for him as she suspected she'd be in the shower when he arrived. As he was over half an hour late, he came to the disappointing realization that she probably was no longer wet or naked, but he was hoping to remedy that situation as quickly as possible. To be blunt, he was in desperate need of stress release and he found no better outlet for said release than from his lovely partner.

The reason for his tardiness could be simply explained. That Saturday he intended to drop his daughter off at a sleep-over birthday party and then join his lady friend for drinks, dinner, and between-the-sheets activities (though not necessarily in that order). Unfortunately, he'd been cornered by some mothers at the sleepover when he went to drop off his daughter. She was thirteen now, she told him; she didn't need him to walk her to the door. Why, oh why, hadn't he listened?

Upon stepping into Kate's apartment, Castle called out her name. He heard her, "In here!" reply from the direction of her bedroom. Walking in, he found her sitting in the middle of the bed, papers and folders spread out all around her.

"Sorry I'm late," he told her as he toed off his shoes. "Got cornered by a bunch of horny single moms trying to drop Alexis off."

"Really?" Kate laughed as he climbed up into the bed with her.

"Yeah. Evidently, when your kid turns thirteen it's some sort of unspoken rule that you have to get divorced and then hit on the single dads of your daughter's friends. It's really bizarre, actually."

"Sorry to hear that," Kate, said, though she wasn't exactly paying attention to him and he could tell.

To remedy this, he dropped his lips to her shoulder and kissed it. Then, he moved them to her neck and kissed her again.

She turned her head towards him, suspicious. "What are you doing?"

He kissed her neck again. "Trying to distract you. Is it working?"

"No," she corrected. "I'm working."

She turned her attention back to the pages of information in front of her, but only for a moment, before her partner's antics stared up again. While his lips remained on her neck his right hand skimmed across her back, rounded her hip, dipped into the front of her yoga pants and landed at her crotch. She gasped.

Castle chuckled against her neck. Pressing his fingers harder against the front of her panties, he asked, "How about now?"

"Castle!" she scolded, nudging his arm away with her elbow.

"What?"

His tone was innocent, but she knew his intentions were nothing but. "This is our case, you know? I'm working on narrowing down our suspect pool."

He smiled at her. "I know and this is my way of helping."

Rolling her eyes, Kate turned back to the paperwork in front of her. The latest case was a strange one, no doubt. The body of a woman had been found by sanitation workers attempting to empty a dumpster located at a midtown apartment building. As the garbage and thus the woman had gone through a trash compactor before entering the dumpster, identification was difficult at best.

Believing the woman could be a resident of the building, the detectives along with a few uniformed officers canvassed the apartments trying to discover if anyone was missing. On the seventh floor, they found a man who had not heard from his wife that day, which he found odd, especially given her purse and cell phone remained inside the apartment. As she had only been gone for twelve hours, he could not officially report her missing, but Castle and Beckett decided to operate as though she was their victim.

Due to the gruesome nature of the body, they needed to wait for the medical examiner's office to identify the woman by her dental records. In the meantime, the ME intended to piece together what she could of the body in an attempt to determine cause of death. Due to the vast amounts of garbage it was too difficult to tell just by looking at the scene if she had been killed before or after the trash compactor. For the woman's sake, Kate hoped it was before and she certainly didn't envy the crime scene tech's task of sifting through all that refuse.

"Do you think they'll have answers for us Monday morning?" Castle asked her.

"I hope so. They should at least have dental records to identify her by. From what I heard, they did find a jaw mostly intact," Kate explained.

Castle grimaced. "Shit this was a bad one."

"I know," she sighed.

"Which is exactly why we should be focusing on positive things." With that, he stuck his hand back into her pants and moved his lips to the spot at the base of her jaw that he knew drove her crazy.

"Castle," she groaned, though it was less a groan of annoyance than it was of pleasure.

He hummed against her throat. "I'm just being practical. You said it yourself we won't have answers until Monday. What are you going to do all day tomorrow? Alexis is only at her sleepover tonight."

Kate consider this a moment; the man did make a valid point. When she felt his tongue brush against her pulse point, she gave in. "Okay, alright, but we cannot have sex on our case docs. Help me clean them up first."

"I'll clean them up," he told her, sliding off the bed. He began gathering the stacks of pages together in a less than neat fashion before shooting her a naughty grin. "You take off your clothes."

* * *

"I'm telling you Beckett it's not him; it cannot be him."

By Monday afternoon, all the bliss they'd found in Kate's bedroom forty-eight hours earlier had completely vanished and the detective duo were back to doing what they did best outside the bedroom: arguing.

Kate stopped at her desk, tossed down her folder of papers, and threw her arms up in the air. "He confessed!"

"But the story doesn't make sense!" Castle insisted. It didn't and he'd known it from the start—the story was all wrong.

First thing that morning they'd received word that the missing woman from the apartment building's seventh floor, Cathy Turner, was indeed their victim. At that point, they still did not have COD, but the ME's office felt reasonably confident she was killed before entering the trash compactor. With this news in hand, the partners went to interview the woman's husband, coworkers, and neighbors in the building.

From that first conversation, Kate's gut told her that the husband should be their main person of interest. He was hiding something; his body language and eye contact practically screamed it. He was distraught and that seemed genuine, but Kate found that often time heat-of-the-moment killers, like spouses, were distraught because they very much regretted their actions.

As the day went on and their interviews continued, Castle began to disagree with his partner. From the victim's sister, they learned that Cathy intended on filing for divorce from her husband. While this information fueled Kate's theory, Castle felt it did the opposite. The sister told them Cathy seemed relieved and happy about her decision. In fact, she had said after discussing it with her husband they were both happier for it because it would be an end to their constant bickering and stress.

With this information, Kate decided to bring the husband in for questioning. Reluctantly, Castle joined her in the interrogation. It only took her seven minutes to break him. The husband broke down in tears and confessed that he had killed his wife. Stabbed her with a knife from the kitchen and, upon realizing what he'd done, threw both her and the knife into the trash chute.

While Kate took this confession as a win, Castle didn't buy it. There was something too rehearsed, too phony about it.

Planting her fists at her hips, Kate stared at her partner. "Why is that your default line? 'The story doesn't make sense,'" she mocked him in a deep tone. "It's not about the story, Castle."

He pressed his lips together and took a step towards her. "It is about the story; it's always about the story."

"Why?"

"Because it is. And," he shook his head sadly at her, "if you don't understand that, you don't understand me."

* * *

Castle was right.

Kate hated to admit it, but he had totally called this one.

After voicing his doubts on the validity of the confession to Montgomery, their Captain suggested they follow his instincts and ask any more questions they felt necessary. Due to the state of the victim's body, they would not be able to confirm she died from stab wounds for at least another day, so they would not be wasting time by continuing their questioning.

Castle decided to re-interview the victim's neighbors, figuring one of them had to have heard or seen something. While talking to the family that lived across the hall from the Turners, both of them noticed how nervous and uncomfortable the seventeen-year-old son appeared during the duration of their discussion. It wasn't until they were on their way out that Kate spotted a maroon splatter on the boy's sneakers. When she confronted him about it, the boy tried to run away. Castle caught him and the whole story came out.

Evidently, the victim's husband and the teenage neighbor were having an affair. The teen viewed the victim as standing in the way of his happiness, so he went over to her apartment the prior week and the two had argued. The boy ended up stabbing her in the neck during their fight. When the victim's husband came home, he helped the boy dispose of the body and clean up the blood. Then, in order to protect the person he loved, the husband confessed to the crime.

"Well, I gotta say," Castle sighed to his partner as they watched the cuffed seventeen-year-old leave for central booking, "I didn't think the husband did it…but I never saw this one coming."

"Yeah." Kate echoed his sigh. "This just proves you can never really figure anyone out."

"Mmm. Well, ah, good work on this one Beckett; I didn't see that blood on his shoe," he told her with a soft smile.

"No, Castle; this is your collar. I wouldn't have looked further than the husband's confession," she admitted. Then, lowering her voice, she took a step closer to him. "After, ah, after we do our paperwork we should probably talk about some stuff."

He nodded. "Yeah, okay. My place tonight?" He suggested; she nodded confirming their plans.

* * *

Due to the icy atmosphere between them since their argument, Kate was not exactly looking forward to her trip to Castle's that night, but she knew they had to talk it out. It truly bothered her that he felt as though she didn't understand him, because she thought she did. She always thought his story theories were just a quirk, a gimmick. For a long time, they made absolutely no sense to her, but after she found out about his novelist past, she thought that had been the connection. Each case was like a short story in a book and the story had to make sense; it had to flow, but to her as long as they found a killer—especially one who confessed—the story always made sense.

Kate didn't knock on Castle's apartment door until shortly after nine, thus ensuring his daughter would be in bed. He invited her in and offered her a drink, but she refused. Instead she hung up her coat, toed off her shoes and joined him on the couch.

"First, I want to apologize to you," she told him. "I don't want you to think I was belittling your process or your casework, because I would never do that. I was annoyed with you, so I said those things but," she paused and reached out for his hand. "Castle, I think you're an amazing investigator, you know that right? You're a great cop."

He smiled softly at her and squeezed her hand. He used his other hand to skim across his cheeks and rub the stubble that had formed there throughout the day. He wanted to make her understand, after everything they'd been through he knew he should, but the words didn't come easy; he'd never spoken them aloud before.

"My mother is an actress; you know that. She's always been an actress. Plays run at night so, ah, a lot of times I had a babysitter or a neighbor who would check in on me during the nights she had shows."

Kate nodded and scooted a bit closer to him. She wasn't sure how this story related to what they were discussing, but she was definitely intrigued.

"I was about eleven, I guess, and I was walking through a park near our apartment building just before dusk. I had ducked away from my babysitter and I was just exploring—you know, picking up rocks, throwing them at trees, looking for trouble like any pre-teen boy would. And, as I walked through the park, I came upon a man being mugged. I didn't realize it at the time, I just saw two people arguing, so I ducked behind a tree so they couldn't see me, but I could still see them.

"Then, one man—the larger of the two—pulled out an object from his coat. I didn't know what it was until I saw him jam it forward into the smaller man's gut." He paused and looked her in the eye. "It was a knife; he stabbed him and then he just…ran off."

Kate squeezed Castle's hand a bit tighter and he continued his story after rubbing his hand over his mouth.

"I was terrified—frozen. I didn't know what to do so I just ran in the opposite direction. I ran all the way home." He paused and cleared his throat before continuing. "The next day, I checked the papers and I found an article about it. The victim fortunately lived, but they never found the mugger. I felt so guilty for not going to the police with what I saw. I mean, it was dark; I don't know that I could have identified the mugger even in a lineup, but for a very long time I felt extremely guilty, but I was also afraid I would be in trouble for just watching it happen."

"Oh Castle," she sighed, pulling his hand and forearm into her lap. "You were a scared little kid; no one would blame you for that."

"But I blamed myself," he insisted. "For years that night haunted me. All I could wonder was: why? What had happened to that man to make him mug and stab someone else? What happened to him afterwards? What was his story?

"So I wrote it down…horribly, of course. But I wrote and I kept writing, because I had to work it out. Why do people do the things they do?"

Kate felt the hairs at the back of her neck prickling at his words. How many times had that exact sentence crossed her mind? Particularly in the wake of her mother's death. Why did people do what they did? What compelled certain people to kill others instead of just leaving, walking away?

Suddenly, his story made perfect sense to her. Having a failed writing career was not the only reason he had chosen to become a cop. It wasn't just something he woke up one day and thought would be a decent job with good benefits. He was compelled on a deeper level.

"Is that," she began softly. "Is that why you chose to become a cop? When you decided to no longer pursue your writing career?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I figured the least I could do was to maybe catch a few bad guys before they stabbed anyone. Plus, I knew I'd look good in the uniform."

Kate couldn't help but laugh at his last comment, though she didn't disagree. She had seen him in his dress uniform just a few times, but in it he was very attractive.

With a smile, she leaned over and kissed him. "I'm glad I know this about you."

He eyed her a bit skeptically. "Really? Knowing what happened to me doesn't change how you see me?"

Her brow winkled as she shook her head. "Why would it?"

He shrugged a bit dumbly. "I dunno…I just thought it would which is why I never…"

"You never told anyone before?" she concluded. "Not even your mother?"

He laughed. "Oh, definitely not her; she wouldn't have handled that story well."

Kate leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. The fact that he had never told anyone about such a crucial moment in his life surprised her. Then again, she countered herself, why? She never spoke to anyone about her mother's case, and probably wouldn't have had it not dropped into their laps the year before. As it was, there were many things about that case she kept hidden, so she could understand him keeping that particular story under wraps.

"You're really great cop, Castle."

He sighed into the top of her head and dropped a kiss there. "You're not so bad yourself, partner."

* * *

_A/N: Please note, this was written in December, long before the airing of "Hollander's Woods" - I realize this is an AU story anyway, but I just wanted to make note of that. _


	19. Chapter 18

**Eighteen**

On a frigid evening in early February, Richard Castle busied himself in his apartment's kitchen crafting his latest culinary masterpiece. In the tight space with both the stovetop and oven running, it was very warm, but when he walked out to the open apartment area to set a bowl of salad on the table, he shivered immediately. Damn. How did it get so cold in the apartment? He hadn't changed the heat setting in weeks and Alexis knew better than to touch the dial.

Oh well, he thought mischievously as he returned to the kitchen. Kate would be there soon and they would have the whole evening to warm each other up. In multiple ways, he hazarded to guess, especially since they hadn't seen each other in four days.

As she was in need of a well-deserved break and had a few vacation days to use, Kate had decided to take a long weekend to spend some time with her father at their Pennsylvania cabin. Though he teased her for seeking out an even snowier climate during the peak of winter, Castle fully supported her decision to go and promised to hold down the fort while she was gone.

Due to the fact that cell reception was spotty at best in the mountains, they hadn't spoken very often during her time away. Castle had managed to send her a message to invite her to dinner on the evening of her return and she agreed. On her way back she texted to say they hit traffic and she might end up being a little late, but he expected her at any moment.

Just as he was pulling their main course from the oven, he heard the knock at their apartment door. He called out for his daughter to get it. A minute later, his partner entered the kitchen looking as lovely as ever. Her hair was swept back from her face in a ponytail clearly revealing her eyes, clear and bright and reflecting the emerald hues in her sweater. The dark circles that usually lined them were gone and, if he was not mistaken, her cheeks even appeared rosy. Though, honestly, that was probably due to the bitter cold outside.

"Hello," he greeted her warmly. "How was your trip?"

"It was good…long," she added with a slight laugh.

He blinked at her. "It was only four days."

"Yeah but four days of my dad and me…just the two of us…in an isolated cabin…"

"Ah," he nodded. "Say no more."

"I mean, I know I grew up with the man, but the older I get, I swear I don't know how I stood it. I mean, I love him but-"

"No, no I totally get it," he promised her. "Trust me, if my mother and I were alone in a cabin for more than two days it would probably turn into _The Hunger Games_ and only one of us would survive."

Kate laughed and reached over, skimming her fingertips down his arms. "I guess I, ah, kinda missed you."

"Me? Well, I guess I kinda missed you too," he echoed with a chuckle. Then, he reached out a hand, hooked it around her waist and pulled her in for a quick kiss. Then he kissed her again. And again until, just a few seconds later, he'd backed her up against the refrigerator, their lips firmly intertwined. Both of them had completely forgotten they were not alone in the apartment until they heard a deliberate throat clearing behind them.

Both Kate and Castle jumped apart. Red faced, they looked at the young girl standing with her hands clasped behind her back. "I just wanted to get a drink," she explained simply.

"Ri-right. Right. Sorry, Alexis," Castle said, taking a step back. As Kate appeared rather frozen, he reached out to grab the arm of her sweater and pull her away from the fridge. Alexis reached inside, pulled out a bottle of juice, and then turned to leave the kitchen but not before shooting the adults a skeptical look.

When the younger girl was gone, Kate let out the breath she'd been holding in. Covering her face with her hands, she leaned back against the counter and moaned. "Oh god, oh god, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Castle told her with a mildly amused smile. She was completely freaking out and it was very entertaining.

"But she saw us!" Kate squeaked out. "How bad is this? Bad right? Really bad?"

"Well, let's see." He rested one hand against the counter and placed the other at his hip. "She found us kissing…fully clothed in the middle of the kitchen… Yeah this is about a two on a scale of one-to-ten."

Kate blinked at him, disagreement plain on her face. "But she saw us _kissing_."

"Relax, Kate," he said, stroking her arm. "She's not going to write a report about it an email it to Montgomery. She was probably more annoyed we were blocking the fridge to be honest." Noticing his partner still looked rather shell shocked, he kissed her forehead. "It's fine. Just go sit down; dinner will be ready in a second."

With great reluctance, Kate shuffled her way out to the main area of the apartment. She found Alexis already seated at the table. When the girl looked up at her, Kate felt her ears grow hot. Damn her inability to suppress this kind of embarrassment! All she needed to do was play it cool and casual. Right. That was easier said than done.

"So, Alexis, how's school?"

The younger girl shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Nothing interesting. We're going on a field trip this week."

"Oh really?" Kate asked. "Where to?"

"Just a museum."

"That sounds nice."

Alexis scrunched her nose in displeasure. "It's an art museum. I don't really like art. I'd rather go to a history museum and read all the stories about the past."

Kate smiled at the girl; she really was her father's daughter.

As dinner progressed the awkwardness in the trio dissipated easily. Soon they were laughing about various things and talking about upcoming plans. "Dad," Alexis began as their meal came to a close, "can we go see the new Disney princess movie?"

Castle pursed his lips together. "Really, Alexis? You're not too old for those?" Truthfully, he didn't care. He had been known to shed a tear or two at the end of an animated film before (damn that _Toy Story 3_), and playing spot-the-adult-humor throughout the film was always a fun game. Castle merely found her desire to go amusing. One minute she was thirteen and practically a grown adult who wanted to do adult things. The next, she wanted to see Disney movies and yelled at him when he suggested giving some of her stuffed animals away.

"Actually," Kate interjected, a shy smile across her face, "I kind of wanted to see that one, too."

While Alexis smiled proudly, Castle gaped at his partner. He had her pegged for having a much different taste in movies. "Really? You?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I kind of have a weak spot for Disney movies. They remind me of how-" She cut off her speech and lowered her eyes to the table. Nervously adjusting the silverware by her plate she said, "Of how I used to watch them with my mom."

Castle smiled softly to himself before turning his eyes towards his daughter. Fortunately, she didn't need any encouragement; the wheels of her brain were already turning.

"We should all go!" the girl suggested.

Kate's gaze snapped up and she raised one hand to protest. "Oh, no. I don't need to intrude on you spending time with your father and-"

"No, please," Castle insisted. "We'd love for you to join us. How about Saturday? A matinee?"

Kate arched her eyebrows at him. "Isn't that Valentine's Day?"

He tilted his head to look at her. Truthfully, he hadn't thought about the date, but she was correct; it was Valentine's Day. That certainly was convenient. "It is. What about it? Do you have other plans?"

She cleared her throat. "Ah, no. No. I just…"

"Please Kate—c'mon!" Alexis encouraged with her innocent smile and large doe eyes. Castle made a mental note to give her an extra helping of dessert the following night.

Kate's eyes shifted between Castle and his daughter for a moment before she finally agreed. "Yeah, okay; I'll come with you."

* * *

Much to Kate's surprise, the movie theater was packed at one p.m. on Valentine's Day afternoon. Not with couples as she would have expected, but with families and chattering children. Then again, she shouldn't have been surprised. The movie they were seeing had been at the top of the box office charts ever since its release the week of Christmas.

As the line for snacks was several dozen families deep, Castle suggested that they go find their seats then he would go out and get their popcorn. That way, Alexis didn't have to miss any of the previews. They found three seats together towards the center of a row at the top of the crowded theater. Castle left his coat on the seat between the two girls and then tip-toed his way out of the row, which was difficult given his large frame.

Kate pulled off her jacket, draped it across the back of her seat and pulled her cell phone from her pocket before sitting down. She made sure the device was on silent mode before slipping it back into her coat pocket. Just as she turned to make sure Alexis was situated, she realized the girl was now sitting beside her. Slightly startled, she jumped and clutched her hand to her chest.

"Is there something wrong with your seat, Alexis?"

The girl shook her head. "No it's not broken, I just wanted to sit here for a second."

Kate nodded and leaned back in her seat. After no more than a minute of silence she heard, "Are you my dad's girlfriend now?"

The words hit Kate's chest like a lightning bolt and she spluttered appropriately. "Wha-wha-what?"

"Are you my dad's girlfriend now?" Alexis repeated the question in a calm, enunciated way.

Kate cleared her throat and leaned forward in her seat. Great. Of course the girl had chosen that moment to ask her question. "Alexis, your father and I are partners; we work together."

The younger girl blinked at her. "I'm thirteen, not stupid. I saw you kiss. Plus, I hear you leaving early in the mornings and I know what that means."

Kate felt her cheeks grow hot. Alexis heard her leaving in the mornings? Shit! She always tried to be so quiet, too! When she looked over and saw a very persistent look on the red-head's face, her shoulders rounded. "Well, I…it's complicated, you see."

Alexis nodded and dropped her hands to her lap. "It's because I'm a deal breaker, isn't it?"

As the girl had mumbled, Kate wasn't sure she heard her correctly. "Excuse me?"

Alexis looked up at Kate, her eyes full of sadness. "It's because I'm a deal breaker, right? Because my dad has me. That's why you don't want to be his girlfriend."

Kate felt her throat tighten. What a terrible thought for Alexis to have in her mind! For Kate, it couldn't have been further from the truth. On the long list of reasons why she didn't want to be Castle's girlfriend, Alexis didn't even fall into the top ten. Heck, she wasn't on the list at all. Kate knew she had never showed any dislike or disinterest in the girl. If anything, it was the opposite. She always tried to be polite and attentive to her when they had dinner. They'd even gone skating together that one time. Thus, she deduced if Alexis had those thoughts in her mind they must have come from somewhere else.

"Alexis, has someone said that to you before?"

The girl shook her head. "Not to me, but I heard it."

Great, Kate thought; that almost made it worse. She reached out a hand and put it atop the girl's. "Alexis, look at me." Kate waited until she did before continuing. "If there is a woman out there who doesn't want to be with your father because of you then she doesn't deserve your father in the first place. The relationship your father and I have is complicated, but I promise you you're not the reason why."

Apparently satisfied with this, Alexis gave Kate a small smile before moving back to her seat. A few minutes later, Castle returned with popcorn, M&amp;M's and drinks. He'd barely been seated thirty seconds before the theater lights dimmed and the previews began.

Throughout the film, Kate found herself struggling to pay attention as her thoughts remained mostly on Alexis and what she had said. For the most part, Kate argued back and forth with herself about whether or not to reveal their conversation to Castle. After she decided she had to tell him something, she wrestled with how much and in how much detail. Finally, she decided she would tell him what Alexis said, but keep it as simple as possible.

When they returned to Castle's apartment, Kate informed her partner that she needed to speak with him—alone. He sent Alexis inside and they remained in the hall while Kate briefed him on what his daughter had said. As soon as she repeated Alexis's "deal breaker" line she witnessed her partner's eyes cloud over with recognition. "So that happened?" Kate concluded. "Someone really said that?"

"Ah, yeah, yeah…" He skimmed his hand over his forehead and turned away from her momentarily. "This woman I was seeing a while ago…I guess…I guess it was shortly before I transferred to the twelfth—the spring before. Alexis would have just turned eleven. We saw each other for a couple months before she said that she liked me, but she never wanted kids and didn't want to be around them so Alexis was a deal breaker."

Castle paused and gave his apartment door a guilty look. "We, ah, she told me while we were sitting in the living room. I thought Alexis was in bed but…but I guess she heard. Damn it."

When her partner covered his face with his hands, Kate stepped in and wrapped her arms around his back. "You have a wonderful daughter," she assured him. Then, when he lowered his hands, she pressed her lips against his. "Thanks for the movie."

After she'd gone, Castle stood in the hall for another moment to collect himself. Then, he went in and found Alexis getting herself a drink in the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe. "Sweetie, I just talked to Kate. She told me what you guys talked about before the movie. Do you want to talk to me about anything?"

Alexis shrugged and walked past him with her glass of water. "It's fine, Dad. I mean, Cayden at school told us how all parents have sex, so whatever."

Castle nearly fell over. "Whoa what? What? What?" He stammered at his daughter. Oh god, this was what having a heart attack felt like, wasn't it? Nausea. Heart palpitations. Sweating. This was it; he was dying. He'd been referring to the situation in which she felt she was responsible for him and Kate not having an official romantic relationship. How the hell did sex come up?

"Who is Cayden? And why were you talking about this?" he demanded of her.

Alexis shrugged. "It was after health class; Cayden is in my grade."

Castle covered his face with his hands. Jesus, what were they teaching kids these days? Did he even know what sex was at thirteen? Oh, right, he probably did, but still! He took a deep breath. "Okay, Alexis, okay just hold on. Let's just take a deep breath and sit down."

Her brow wrinkled. "Dad, you face is turning red."

Castle resisted the urge to moan. "I know. Sweetie, just sit down for me, please? Let's talk about this." He guided them both towards the sofa and she reluctantly followed.

"It's okay Dad."

"It's really not," he assured her. "What Cayden said is not ok. I mean, talking about other people having sex isn't polite and you shouldn't do that."

"I know that. Cayden's the one who brought it up." She tapped her fingers against her water glass before adding, "And then Peyton said she walked in on her parents and she said it was really gross, so I really don't want that to happen."

Oh god, he was going to throw up. Yep, he was definitely going to throw up.

Swallowing hard, Castle spoke with great sincerity, "Trust me, Alexis, I will do everything in my power to assure that doesn't happen."

Appearing relieved, she smiled at him. "Okay." She moved to get off the couch, but her father stopped her.

"Wait one more second. I just…What I originally meant was that I don't want you thinking in any way that you're the reason Kate and I…well, we aren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend."

Alexis considered this for a moment before posing the question, "Why aren't you?"

Castle took a deep breath. Oh that question was kind of like Pandora's Box, wasn't it? There was no way he could possibly explain the truthful reasons to her. Hell, he wasn't sure he understood them himself, so he decided to stick with the vaguest answer he could. "Many reasons. Not least of which is our work—our partnership there. Others, you're not old enough to understand, but I promise you that none of those reasons have anything to do with you."

"That's what Kate said," she told him. Castle smiled at her, and she mirrored his expression. "Thanks Dad."

Once she had walked away, Castle leaned back against the sofa and exhaled. Alexis had barely been a teenage for a few weeks and already they were having conversations like this? Jesus, if it got worse, he wasn't sure he could survive it!

"Dad! What are we having for dinner?"

Oh. Right. Food. Castle grumbled and stood from the couch. "I, ah, I'm not sure, but I think I need to take a shower first…"


	20. Chapter 19

**Nineteen**

The week after Valentine's Day Kate unexpectedly found herself eating dinner with Castle and his daughter nearly every night. That week, the detective partners had pulled what Kate referred to as "regular shifts" or the seven a.m. to five p.m. time slot. Somehow, after finishing up for the day, leaving the office together and getting on the subway train going towards southern Manhattan just seemed normal.

Throughout the week, Kate heard about Alexis's history exam and field trip to the art museum. As Alexis was equally as chatty if not more so than her father, Kate felt as though she had been the one touring the art museum with all the detail she received. She was, however, glad to hear the girl enjoyed her trip since the prior weekend she seemed more than a little uncertain about it.

On Friday of that week, Kate made a pit stop at her apartment before going to Castle's. Per his request, she was picking up a bag of her toiletries and a change of clothing so she could spend the night. Initially, Kate was uncomfortable with this idea because Alexis was not staying at a friend's that night; she would be in the apartment. Then she realized in lieu of their conversation at the movie theater the prior weekend the cat was out of the bag, so to speak; Alexis was already aware Kate was spending the night.

Still, Kate did not want to flaunt this fact and confessed so to her partner. Castle brushed off her concerns stating that her spending the night had actually been Alexis's idea. Or, rather, a result of Alexis's suggestion. Evidently, Alexis was in the mood for a huge breakfast with pancakes, eggs, bacon and hash browns. Her father was reluctant to make such a meal unless it was a special occasion, but Alexis talked him in to it as long as there was a third person there to share in the cooking, eating, and cleaning up. Upon hearing this, Kate decided not to turn down the invitation; she hadn't had bacon or hash browns in ages.

Due to the frustrating Friday traffic, it took her almost an hour and a half to make the trek to her apartment, retrieve her belongings, and then get to Castle's. When she entered his apartment, she found him pacing the hall, worry lines creased deeply into his forehead. Naturally, she asked what was going on.

"I have no idea," he told her. "Alexis has apparently been holed up in her room ever since she got home and she won't come out. She won't even talk to me! I have no idea what's going on."

Kate shrugged off her coat and set her shoes against the wall. "Maybe she's sick?" she offered.

He wrung his hands. "I don't know. Maybe. But I haven't heard her go into the bathroom or anything. She's just in her room and won't say anything. Will you try to talk to her?"

Kate's eyes widened. "Me?! Why would she talk to me if she won't talk to you?" she asked. He shot her a desperate look and guilt overtook her. "Alright…alright…"

Smoothing her hands down the front of her sweater, Kate walked up to Alexis's bedroom door and knocked gently. "Alexis? It's Kate. Can…can I come in?" Kate pressed her ear to the door and turned her head towards her partner. He looked as though he was awaiting the tests results of a horrible, incurable disease. Kate resisted the urge to roll her eyes; she doubted the scenario was that dramatic.

"Come in; it's unlocked." Alexis's voice was very soft on the other side of the door.

Slightly surprised that she'd been given the go-ahead, she flashed a thumbs-up to her partner before opening the bedroom door. Kate had never been inside Alexis's room before. She had walked past the door when it was partially open, but she had never stopped and stared. Thus, she was surprised to find the walls painted a very soft pink hue.

The room was fairly small and cramped, which wasn't surprising for a Manhattan apartment. A small closet and the white chest of drawers beside it covered one end of the room. Along the front wall stood a desk crowded with half a dozen books and a laptop computer. Pushed against the far wall was a white bedframe, unmade with quilts and pillows haphazardly strewn about.

Amongst these items sat Alexis. She appeared to be still dressed in her school uniform of a navy blue long sleeved shirt and khaki pants. With her chin pointed to the ground, a curtain of her orange-red hair blocked her face from Kate's view.

Cautiously, Kate stepped into the room and took a seat at the desk chair which was almost directly opposite of the girl. She rested her hands on her knees and said gently, "Your dad said you've been in here ever since he got home and you wouldn't let him inside. Is everything okay?"

"No."

Right. Obviously, Kate chastised herself. If everything was ok, Alexis wouldn't have shut herself into her room and refused to speak to anyone about it. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Instead of speaking, Alexis very slowly used both hands to tuck chunks of hair behind her ears. Then, at a positively glacial pace, she pushed herself off the bed and stood. Turning only twenty degrees at a time, she ultimately spun herself around giving Kate a view of her back side.

Kate was initially confused until she spotted a few dark splotches on the seat of the girl's khaki pants; blood. Immediately, the cop in her panicked. Her heart rate spiked and she wondered what the hell happened to the girl at school that day. Had she been abused? Attacked?

Twenty seconds later, Kate took a deep breath and remembered that in real life, not every incident involved a violent crime. Most times, the simplest answer was the correct one. "You, ah, you got your period in school and it went through your pants?" Kate asked. Alexis turned back around and nodded as she sat back down on her bed.

Well, that certainly explained things. No wonder Alexis hadn't wanted to tell her father what was wrong when she came home. Kate transported herself back to her early teen years and her sympathy for the girl grew instantly. Fortunately, she had her mother to turn to for any issues of the female kind. The mere concept of taking such problems to her father was laughable; he would have had no idea what to do.

Kate rested her forearms on her thighs and ducked her head to look at the girl. "Did someone laugh at you, Alexis?" Again, the girl nodded.

The detective sucked in a deep breath. "Alexis, I'm sorry. I know this won't make you feel much better but this happens to everyone. Really, it does. Sooner or later it will happen to the girls that laughed at you."

Alexis looked up at her from under her brow line. "Boys laughed at me."

Oh. Well, that wasn't as easy, was it?

"Okay, well, it won't happen to them, but you are not the first girl this has happened to and you won't be the last," Kate promised her. Then, feeling a little female solidarity might help her, she continued, "It happened to me, too. When I was changing for gym class. It's kind of like a rite of passage."

Alexis looked up at her, glum as ever. _Right_, Kate said to herself, _this is why I'm not a parent_. Knowing her attempt to make the situation better failed, Kate decided to switch gears. "I know it seems awful right now, but everyone at school will forget about this by next week. You just need to be prepared in the future. Do you keep pads or panty liners in your backpack?"

"No," Alexis mumbled.

Finally a problem she could fix! Alexis wasn't aware of how critical it was to have a female emergency supply pack at the ready (pads/tampons, tissues, and a nail file were an absolute must!). Kate deduced this was because no one had ever showed her. Not that Castle was to blame, of course; how was he to know what women carried around in their purses?

"Well you should. Why don't you put some in there right now before you forget?" Kate suggested with a smile.

Alexis looked up at her still rather terrified and Kate's jaw dropped an inch. She had no idea how, but in that moment everything clicked in her brain. Shit! Oh, holy shit this was definitely not what she signed up for when she arrived that evening! This was _definitely_ a task for a parent but…damn. She was the one sitting in Alexis's room, wasn't she? And she couldn't abandon the girl. For better or worse, she was stuck.

Kate cleared her throat and leaned a bit closer to the girl. "Alexis…do you have pads or panty liners?" Confirming her suspicions, Alexis shook her head. "Is…is this the first time you…oh, right." Kate's voice dropped off when the girl looked even more terrified.

Oh boy. How the hell was she supposed to have this discussion? What was she even supposed to say? Part of her wanted to run and get Castle but good lord he would be a disaster in this situation.

Kate took a deep breath and stood from her seat. Somehow, she figured pacing the tight space in Alexis's room would make her feel better during this uncomfortable discussion. "Okay, Alexis, okay. Well, um, you know what—I mean why this is happening, right?"

"I had health class."

"Right." Of course she had. To that day Kate remembered the video that all the girls watched in fifth grade; she still felt traumatized by it. "Okay—I know this can be kind of scary at first. It was for me and," _I had my mom_, she finished to herself. As Alexis's mom was…well, Meredith, she knew a comment like that would not help her so instead she just said, "But, you know, it's all totally natural. Do…do you want to ask me anything?"

The younger girl turned her large blue eyes up towards Kate. "Is it always going to be like this?"

"Like what?"

"Bloody."

Kate couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, and I won't lie to you – I imagine it'll get slightly worse from what you had today, but don't worry; you'll get used to it."

Alexis was quiet for a moment before asking, "Will it happen the same day every month?"

"It could, but honestly it'll probably be really sporadic at first. That's what I remember." Kate bit down on her bottom lip and tried to think back to that time. It all kind of blurred together, though she knew it was in the seventh grade. Granted, that was eighteen years earlier. Damn, was she really that old?

"I think I was fourteen before it was regular—maybe even older. Even more reason to have pads in your backpack—and your purse."

"So you have them in yours?"

Kate grimaced. "Ah…generally I just carry tampons—but don't worry you don't have to use those until you're ready," she added quickly, noting Alexis's even more concerned expression. She took a moment to mentally inventory her purse. It was possible she had a panty liner, but she wasn't sure; she couldn't remember if she had replaced it the last time she used the one she carried.

"I might have something. What…what did you do? Did you put toilet paper in your underwear?" She had, of course, had to do that during her teen years when she'd found herself stuck without a pad or a tampon in a public restroom. Those certainly were not her finer moments, but she was sure most women had been through it.

"A paper towel," Alexis confessed with her eyes downcast. "I thought it would be more absorbent."

Kate clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress her laugh. It wasn't funny—not to Alexis—but to her it kind of was. Kate just wanted to hug her; she was adorable. "Ok, just…hold on."

Turning on her heel, Kate quickly exited the room and hurried down the hall to where she'd left her purse next to her shoes. She dropped to her knees on the ground and began rummaging through the item. Just when she was about to give up, she spotted the corner of a pink one inch square packet in the depths of her bag. "Ah-ha!" she muttered to herself proudly and plucked the item from its hiding place. The panty liner wouldn't completely solve Alexis's problem, but it would get her out of the paper towel underpants.

Standing, she turned around and nearly ran smack into her partner, who was staring at her incredulously. Evidently, he'd been pacing a hole in the hallway floor and was positively offended she hadn't explained to him what was going on the moment she exited Alexis's bedroom. "Hello!?" he demanded, arms open wide.

"Hold on." Much to his horror, she stepped around him and hurried back down the hall to Alexis's room. She slipped inside once more and shut the door behind her. Passing the item to the younger girl she said, "Here. Get a clean pair of underwear and stick this inside. It'll be good enough to get you out of this room while I run to the store and get you some pads."

Alexis took the item with great relief and mumbled a thank you.

"Listen, um, I know… I understand why you didn't want to talk to your dad about this-"

"He would have had no idea what to do!" Alexis insisted. "I tried to call Gran, but she didn't answer."

Kate nodded. It was unfortunate the girl's grandmother didn't take her call, though she could not disagree with the comment that her father would have been clueless. "But Alexis you really should have told your father. He loves you very much and while he might not have had all the answers, I'm certain he would have found them for you."

With that, Kate turned to leave the room, but she was stopped by the younger girl calling out her name and adding, "Thank you—so much."

She smiled at the red-head. "No problem."

Back out in the hall, Kate found Castle looking as though he was going to explode. Fighting the urge to laugh at his red-faced expression, she explained simply. "Alexis started her period today."

"Her wha—WHAT?!" he positively boomed. Kate grabbed his shirt sleeve and dragged him down the hall to the kitchen just in case he said anything mildly offensive within earshot of his daughter. He followed her like a very confused puppy dog, stammering the entire way. "But—but—but she's not old enough!"

"She's thirteen."

"Exactly!"

Kate shook her head at him. "That's pretty average. If anything it might be a little late."

Castle skimmed his hands up his jaw and ran them through his hair, reviewing this information in his mind. "Oh…oh my god. No wonder she wouldn't…but you- " He froze mid word and his eyes widened with horror when he looked at his partner. "You had to…"

She waved her hand at him. "It's fine."

"It's not fine," he countered. "You shouldn't have had to…" He turned away from her and leaned his forearms against the kitchen counter. Shaking his head, he lowered his voice. "I just…I…"

"What?" she requested when he didn't continue.

He turned his head and looked at her timidly. "It's times like these—and I imagine there are many more to come—where I feel like I'm failing her. Single father parenting a daughter. I can't answer questions about periods and other lady things." He let out a bitter laugh. "Mother took her bra shopping, but that's more up her alley than the nitty gritty. I just…"

Kate understood his concern, but she wouldn't let him beat himself up over it. "Castle, look at me. You are a wonderful father. Truly. Alexis couldn't ask for better. And, yeah, you won't know what kind of pads or tampons to buy her but…you know, you can always ask me." Kate smiled at him reassuringly before taking a step towards the hall. "Speaking of—I'm going to run to Walgreen's and get her some supplies. I'll be back in a little bit."

"Wait." He followed her, dipping his hand into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulled out two twenty dollar bills and held them out to her. "Is this enough?"

Kate looked at him as though he was insane. "How expensive do you think these things are?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

Kate shook her head and plucked one of the twenties from his hand. "I'll bring back the change." She pulled on her coat and was almost at the door before he stopped her again.

"Kate. Thank you."

She smiled at him easily. "What are partner's for?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, Castle was still recovering from the discovery of the fact that his little girl was no longer a little girl when her tiny voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Daddy?"

Castle spun to his left and saw her standing just outside the kitchen, arms clasped in front of her. She looked embarrassed and it broke his heart. "Alexis, honey, how are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Okay. I got blood on my pants."

"That's okay," he assured her. "We'll get it out. Or get you new pants. Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded and turned towards the sitting room. Before she took a step, she turned back to her father and said, "Kate's really nice, Dad; I like her a lot."

Castle beamed down at his little girl. "Me too."


	21. Chapter 20

**Twenty**

Richard Castle viewed his ability to turn a bad situation into a good situation as one of his best qualities. For instance, when his thirteen year old daughter ditched him during their afternoon of father-daughter bonding so that she could go and hang out with her friends, did he wallow in the fact that he'd suddenly become the old, uncool dad? No. (Well, maybe for a minute.)

Instead, he asked himself, "Self, what would you like to do with your evening now that you have no plans?" The answer, he decided, was simple and ten minutes later he was in a cab headed uptown towards Kate's apartment.

Really, he decided as he rode, he was saving her from herself. The prior day when he'd asked her about her Saturday plans she'd shrugged, shook her head and said she would probably be spring cleaning her apartment or possibly catching up on laundry. Cleaning? Laundry? Pst! She could do those anytime. Or, knowing Kate and how efficient she was, she was probably already done. If not, she clearly was in need of a break. A naked break. On her couch. Or possibly even on the rug in her sitting room. They hadn't done it there—yet.

With a notable spring in his step, Castle entered Kate's apartment building and stepped into the elevator. There, he smiled at an elderly woman and patted the head of her panting poodle before casually pressing the button for the fourth floor. The woman got off on the third floor affording Castle the opportunity to check his reflection in the back of the shiny elevator doors.

On the fourth floor he walked directly to Kate's apartment door and rapped on it with the knuckles of his index and middle fingers. He rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets before he heard footsteps inside. Much to his surprise, the door did not open quickly as it normally did. Instead, she only opened it a quarter of the way and poked her head into the opening.

"Castle," she began, her tone more of a hiss than anything, "What the hell are you here?"

"I came to surprise you," he said, still too consumed by his own glee to notice her level of annoyance.

"Well, I'm surprised."

Finally, he caught her tone and the flash of irritation in her eyes. His fading smile was replaced by a wrinkled brow. "But…not in a good way. Is this a bad time?"

From inside the apartment, Castle heard, "Katie, who's at the door?"

Shit—holy shit! He thought. Was there a man in her apartment? Another man? A man she was—oh god—sleeping with? Sure, seven months earlier when they started sleeping together she said she didn't want to be exclusive, but he didn't think she meant it! Especially…well, they did spend a lot of nights together… When in the hell did she have time to—oh, the man was older. Much older, Castle noted when he saw a face appear behind Kate's in the doorway.

With great reluctance, Kate stepped back and opened the door a bit further. The older man smiled and Castle spotted the resemblance immediately; this was Kate's father. He had seen the man before, but only once and from across the room.

"Oh, hello," the older man said to him. Castle lifted his hand to give a dopey wave.

"Castle, ah, this is my father, Jim Beckett. Dad, this is my partner, Richard Castle."

Kate looked as though she was back in high school and being forced to introduce her father to all of her school friends. Had Castle not been so distracted by the fact that he was officially meeting her father for the first time, he would have found her expression and the emotions within it endlessly adorable.

Instead, he stuck his hand through the partially open door. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

Jim shook the younger man's hand firmly. "Pleasure to meet you too Mr. Castle."

"Ah, please call me Rick."

"Rick." Jim nodded. "I've heard so much about you I feel like I already know you."

Castle let out an embarrassed laugh and glanced over to Kate; she appeared to be attempting to vanish into the floor. "Well I, ah, I guess I should have called first. I don't mean to intrude so I'll just-"

"Hang on a second there, Rick," Jim interrupted. He reached around behind his daughter and forcibly pulled the door from her grasp so it would open further. "Why don't you join us for dinner?"

"Oh," Castle began, his eyes darting between father and daughter. "No, I couldn't intrude-"

"No intrusion. In fact, I insist." The elder Beckett smiled ever broader. "We have more than enough food for another person, don't we Katie?"

Castle looked at her and saw plainly a "please don't" expression, but what was he to do? He was already trapped and he didn't want Kate's father to think he was rude just in case…well, just in case he counted on making a good first impression for the future.

Jim took a step away from the door and called over his shoulder, "Don't be shy, Rick."

"Ah, right. Sure of course," he said, stepping in the apartment. When Kate shut the door behind him, he muttered to her, "Sorry."

"'s okay," she mumbled back.

"So, Rick, what were you up to on this fine Saturday?" Jim asked as the trio made their way into Kate's cramped kitchen area.

"Well, ah, actually," he began with a laugh. "I intended on spending the afternoon with my daughter, but she ditched me for her friends."

"You have a daughter?" Jim asked before shooting his own child a look; Jim had heard many details about her illustrious partner over the prior year, but she'd evidently left that one out.

"Yes, Alexis; she's thirteen," Castle said before showing the elder man a picture of her on his phone.

Jim smiled down at the photo. "She's beautiful." Then, he glanced down at the man's left hand. No ring as he suspected. "So, are you married, then?"

"Dad!" Kate snapped, feeling her ears begin to heat. "He's not a client you're trying to vet; back off."

"It's okay, Kate," Castle said with a smile before turning to her father. "No; I've been divorced for a long time. I have full custody though, in case that's your next question."

Jim nodded. "Well, in that case, I hope your daughter doesn't give you as many gray hairs as Katie gave me during her teens."

While Kate groaned and covered her face with her hands, Castle let out a loud laugh. "Is that so? Well, I wouldn't mind hearing a story or two."

"Don't you dare!"

Jim ignored his daughter's warning. "I assume you know about her motorcycle."

"I know she has one," Castle said, taking the glass of wine offered to him by his extremely perturbed partner.

"Well, along with the motorcycle came her grungy rocker boyfriend-"

"He was in a punk band!" Kate interjected, though neither man paid much attention to her.

"-and they stumbled in one evening, slightly inebriated. He was so out of it I managed to convince him that I, a lawyer, could arrest and charge him for several crimes."

Castle almost doubled over with laughter. "What I love most about that story is that if that ever happens to Alexis, I actually could arrest the kid!"

"Oh no—this is a cautionary tale," Kate said, stepping between the men. Then she looked at her father and gestured towards Castle with her wine glass. "Tell him what happened next—after you disapproved."

Jim blinked at the male detective. "She moved in with him after high school graduation."

While Castle paled, Kate beamed. "Let this be a lesson, Castle: disapproving of your daughter's boyfriend only makes her want him more."

"So, if I like the guy, she'll break up with him?! Wait, seriously—what are the rules for this?" he practically squeaked out.

Both Becketts laughed. "Relax, Rick; I think you still have a few more years before you have to worry about this."

Kate clapped him on the back of his shoulder with her hand. "C'mon Castle, let's eat."

An hour later, Kate's kitchen was still filled with laughter from the three adults even long after their plates had been emptied. Each of them took turns telling tales. Of course, Jim took more than his fair share, much to his daughter's embarrassment, but she took it in good stride. Castle, on the other hand, loved every moment of it. Hearing about that side of Kate was an absolute joy; he was almost sad when she began clearing the table signaling the end of their meal.

Jim Beckett watched as his daughter elbow-nudged her partner on the way into the kitchen. He observed Castle smile down at her and her expression reflect his. Even before this little exchange they shared, he knew; Jim Beckett was a lawyer not a fool.

For over a year he could hardly think of a conversation with his daughter that didn't involve the name Castle being brought up over and over again. "Castle did this," "Castle said that," "Castle told me the funniest thing" – the variations were endless. It certainly didn't take a detective to put together those clues. Now that he'd seen them interact in person he was even more convinced.

Standing from the table, Jim cleared his throat and casually approached them. "So, ah, what is the NYPD policy on romantic relationships between partners?"

The moment the words left Jim's mouth Castle choked wine he was drinking and Kate scolded, "Dad!"

While her father smiled innocently, Castle slapped his palm against his chest and coughed a few more times. "Swallowed wrong," he confessed in a gravely tone.

"Well?" her father asked expectantly.

Castle gazed over at his partner. Yeah, he was definitely going to let her field this one, even if it was painfully evident she didn't want to. Before she could open her mouth, they were interrupted by Castle's cell phone ringing. Thank god!

"Ah excuse me," he told them upon seeing the display on his phone screen. "It's my daughter; I have to take this." He stepped into the hall leaving the silent father-daughter duo behind only to return a minute later. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Alexis needs me to pick her up."

"Is everything ok?" Kate asked on instinct.

"I think so. Sounds like she just had an argument with one of her friends. Jim," he said, extending his hand toward the elder man. "Nice to meet you. And, Kate, I'll, ah, talk to you later." Feeling just as awkward as he had on his first date he leaned over, kissed her cheek, and then headed directly out the door.

Once he was gone, Kate let out the breath she'd been holding in ever since her father asked _the question_. Deciding her best course of action would be to pretend it never happened, Kate turned back to the table to bring the serving dishes into the kitchen. "You wanna take any of these leftovers with you, Dad?"

Bemused, Jim followed her. "No. And you never answered my question, Katherine."

Oooh, her full name. Kate knew things were serious when he addressed her that way, but she was a thirty-year-old adult and she wasn't going to fold. "That's because it was completely inappropriate. Castle is my partner—my coworker and nothing more."

Jim folded his arms over his chest and gave her his perfect lawyer stare. "You sure that's the answer you want to stick with? He is, after all, the first man of yours I've had a meal with since…well, I can't even remember the last time."

"Because you twisted his arm into staying," Kate informed him pointedly.

"And yet, you seemed to be enjoying yourself quite a bit," her father countered. Kate bit on her bottom lip but said nothing. Taking a step towards her, he dropped his arms to his sides and continued. "Look, Katie this isn't a bad thing. In fact, it's the opposite."

Jim reached out his hands to stroke his daughter's arms. "I don't think I've seen you this happy…well, since your mother was alive. I know I had no small part in your sadness over the last few years but I do want you to find happiness. Find love."

Kate remained silent, though her father feared if she bit her lip any harder she'd draw blood; however, it amused him that she maintained her silence even though her facial expression was an absolute dead giveaway.

Finally, she spoke. "It's complicated."

Jim chuckled and patted her arm. "It always is, isn't it? He has a child and I don't know how that would factor in for you…"

Kate's eyebrows rose momentarily. "Oh she isn't. I mean, Alexis is great; that's not an issue."

"Then what is? He seems like a good man."

She nodded her head. "He is; a very good man."

When his daughter said no more, Jim leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Don't be afraid of happiness, Katie; it looks good on you."

* * *

_A/N_: I just wanted to thank everyone for their reviews - i really appreciate them!


	22. Chapter 21

**Twenty-one**

"So you know my mother's new play?" Castle pulled a dish from beneath the hot water spray of the faucet. He shook off the excess liquid and passed it to his towel wielding partner. The two of them were practicing their well-perfected post-dinner clean up routine while Alexis worked on her homework that Thursday evening.

"You mean the absolute role of a lifetime; the one that just reeks of a Tony," Kate responded with a bemused expression. She heard all about the elder woman's latest role the prior weekend when she ate dinner with the full Castle clan for the first time. During that same meal was when she learned her partner hadn't always been a Castle, but a Rodgers; he'd changed his name before his first publication and never changed it back. Needless to say, the meal had been endlessly entertaining and joyous payback after their meal with her father three weeks prior.

"That's the one," he smiled at her. He shut off the water after the final dish was cleaned. Reaching for a dish towel to dry his hands, he leaned his back against the counter. "From what I've heard this one actually might not be as painful as some of the other's she's been in, which is nice; maybe it'll be open longer than a week."

Kate chuckled. "I'm sure your mother would appreciate that."

He nodded. "She would. Anyway, it opens next weekend and Mother gave me two tickets. I was thinking you could be my date."

Despite her partner's smile, Kate flinched at the key word in his invitation. _Date_. That wasn't exactly something she was keen on. Deciding a polite approach was best, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned her eyes towards the floor. "Oh, I don't know."

Castle's brow winkled as he tossed the towel on the counter behind him and folded his arms over his chest. "What's wrong? You like plays right? I mean, it could totally be horrible, but at least we'd be there together."

Kate let out a gentle laugh. "Yeah I just don't think that's a good idea. Sounds like a family thing." She shrugged, hoping he would drop the subject, but of course he didn't.

"It's not. Mother says Alexis shouldn't go because it's a little too adult, but that might make it more entertaining."

With a heavy exhale, Kate took two steps towards the edge of the kitchen. "I just don't think we should do that."

"Go to the play?"

Kate lowered her chin to her chest. He was going to make her say it, wasn't he? Damn, this was not the kind of confrontation she was in the mood for that evening, but if she had to… Taking a deep breath, Kate looked up at her partner with a stone expression. "Date—do date things."

He laughed at first, thinking she surely must have been making a joke, but then he saw her face and how serious her expression was and his grin disappeared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Seriously, what the hell was she talking about? She didn't think they should date? Do date things? What did that even—oh.

It hit him so unexpectedly. Did she mean-? But no, that didn't make sense! That had been the prior summer when she told him she wasn't looking for a boyfriend or a relationship, just sex. That was _months_ ago. She couldn't possibly…or, could she?

"Wait, seriously?" he finally asked.

Kate stuffed her hands down into her back jean pockets and shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're surprised." He wasn't going to pin this on her—no way. She wasn't surprising him with anything. That's why she had told him how she felt right from the get-go. She didn't want to mislead him. "I was up front with you, Castle. I told you-"

"Bullshit," he spat, interrupting her. "That is complete and utter bullshit and you know it, Kate. It may have started out that way, but not now. Not after…" Castle let his voice drift off as he huffed out a breath from his nose. How was this happening? How were they even having this conversation?

He knew she was skittish—that much was clear, but they'd come so far, especially in the past six weeks. She was eating dinner with his family, even helping him cook the meal! More so, she seemed to look forward to it. If that wasn't relationship-like behavior, he didn't know what was.

Taking a deep breath, he looked her squarely in the eye. "We see each other every day—every day. Either at work or at night or both. You eat dinner here three times a week now. How can you…I mean, you can't…you just…" Frustrated that he, a writer, was unable to convey what he was thinking, Castle threw his hands out wide and shouted, "Damn it Kate, I'm in love with you!"

His words felt like a harpoon to her soul. The way he gazed at her—the pleading look he gave her with his ice blue stare—and that oh-so-very-important "L" word caused tears to immediately form behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. It was all too much for her, so she turned away momentarily. After skimming her hand across her forehead she turned back to him, composed. "You shouldn't be…this isn't…that's not what I-"

He interrupted her with a snide tone to his voice, "Oh, right, I'm sorry. We're just screwing around, right? Or should I use your term? We're just fucking each other. That's all this is to you."

He shook his head. If she believed that—if she truly believed that—he was disgusted with her, but he wasn't ready to give up yet. She was scared and putting up her defenses, but he couldn't stop himself from pushing a bit further. "Let me ask you something, Kate. Have you been with anyone else in the past eight months? I haven't. I haven't wanted to. I never even thought about it, Kate, because I had you. And don't you dare stand there and try to act like this isn't something real." He wouldn't allow that. He wouldn't stand for her trivializing their relationship that way.

Her tone weakened, she shook her head. "It was never my intention to hurt you but... Maybe…Maybe it would be best if I asked Montgomery for a transfer." Without even waiting for his reaction, she turned and walked into the hall.

He followed her, his stomach now flipping in his gut. "What?"

Kate reached for her boots and put them on one at a time. "If…if you have these feelings for me then we shouldn't be partners anymore."

Whoa—what? What?!

This wasn't what he wanted—not at all! She was upset, sure; he understood that, and that was the exact reason they needed to talk about things. He didn't want her to do anything rash; anything they would both regret. "Wait, Kate. Hold on a second. Let's talk about this. Let's-"

"No," she refused, pulling her jacket from the clothes tree it hung on.

"Kate!" he called out her name when she opened the door, then again when she stepped out, but she shut the door behind her without ever looking back.

By the time Kate arrived on the street her eyes stung and her nose ran from holding in the tears. In her pocket, her phone vibrated incessantly. She already had two missed calls from him and she'd barely made it to the sidewalk. Stubbornly, she switched the device to airplane mode; she wasn't going to talk to him no matter how many times he called her.

As she stomped her way to the subway, Kate tried not to think of her partner and naturally failed miserably at it. He was just being ridiculous, she decided—ridiculous and stubborn.

There was no way he was in love with her—it simply wasn't possible. He might have _thought_ he was in love with her, but he most definitely wasn't. He couldn't be in love with her because he wasn't her boyfriend; they were not dating.

And, okay, maybe he wasn't _entirely_ to blame. She had certainly abandoned her pre-Christmas decree to keep things strictly sexual and not "relationship-y" between them. She was the one who kept agreeing to dinners and movies and other outings, but why couldn't they do such things as partners—friends—not as a couple?

_You could_, the more rational side of her brain told her, _assuming you weren't also sleeping together._

Pushing that notion aside Kate boarded the train, dug a pair of headphones from the depths of her purse, and popped them in her ears for her ride uptown.

When Kate arrived back at her apartment, she went directly into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. After a healthy gulp, she set down the glass and stood quietly in her kitchen. Several minutes passed and she realized just how…silent her apartment was.

She couldn't hear a child's laughter or the ambient sound of typing from her computer. She couldn't hear the muttered curses of a large man as he tip-toed around crowded furniture trying to sweep the floor. The chaos of a family environment was gone and she—no. She didn't miss it; she couldn't. She simply needed a distraction.

Striding across her apartment with great purpose, Kate walked into her bedroom, dropped to the ground and fished out one of the plastic storage containers from under her bed. She flipped open the top and began piling folders, documents and pictures into her lap. If she wanted a distraction, she was going to make sure it was one hell of a good one.

Once her arms were loaded down with files, she held the stack close to her chest and waddled her way across her apartment, trying not to drop anything as she went. She dumped the stack on top of her kitchen table and then went to the desk in the corner of her sitting room to retrieve Scotch tape and markers.

If she needed something to focus on other than Castle, there was no bigger draw than her mother's murder case. This was it, she told herself; she was going to solve it. Somehow, some way, she was going to catch a break. She already found Coonan; the next clue had to be nearby. It just had to!

Kate Beckett awoke with a start. She had been dreaming about Dick Coonan's shooting, only in her mind's eye, it wasn't Coonan who ended up bleeding on the floor; it was Castle. She had inadvertently shot him while trying to drop her mother's killer.

Her heart still racing, she sat up and shook her head while blinking hazily at her surroundings. She was seated at her kitchen table, dozens of documents and photos still surrounding her. On the wall to her left, the pictures and articles she taped still hung with great care. Evidently, she'd fallen asleep while reviewing Coonan's financials. What the hell time was it, anyway?

Still groggy, she reached for her cell phone and spotted the time: 5:15 a.m. She also realized the device was still on airplane mode. Oops. She switched that mode off and set her phone down while she shuffled to the bathroom. When she returned she found she had two voicemails and six missed text messages—all from Castle.

_Kate, we need to talk_

_Please answer my calls, Kate_

_C'mon—don't be like this!_

Feeling her chest begin to tighten, she put the phone down and returned to the bathroom to shower. As long as she was up, she might as well get an early start on the day; one never knew when a body would be discovered.

Richard Castle arrived at the mid-town crime scene that Friday morning feeling like he'd been the one backed over by a garbage truck. His eyes were lined with dark circles, and the insomniac-strength coffee he clutched in his hand was doing absolutely nothing to aid in his alertness. A night of virtually no sleep would do that to a person.

That morning when his alarm went off, Castle proceeded through his morning routine with a lead weight in his gut. He'd grown to look forward to days spent with Kate. In light of their fight and her subsequent complete avoidance of contact from him, he dreaded it. His only saving grace was that he was able to hide the incident from his daughter. Fortunately, she had been listening to music during their argument and when she came out of her room and asked where Kate was, he was able to casually brush it off even though his heart was breaking.

He was midway through making her lunch when he received the text message about the location of their latest body. He thought about contacting Kate to see if she wanted to meet at the precinct or at the scene, but then he figured what was the point? If she'd ignored his prior calls and messages, what would make this one any different? Thus, he went directly to the scene by himself.

When Castle stepped around the garbage truck blocking the alley, he was able to see the slim figure of his partner crouching beside the body. His breath immediate left his chest, but he was able to recover by reminding himself that everything was going to be alright. He was down, but not out. Kate merely needed a day or two to calm down and then they would be able to have a calm and rational discussion about their relationship and where they stood.

Clearing his throat, he stepped around to the other side of the body. "Morning Kate; Morning Lanie."

His partner said nothing, but the ME greeted him with a pleasant nod. "Castle."

"So," he said, gazing down with a grimace at the battered body of their latest victim. A female in her early twenties if he had to guess. "Hell of a way to start the morning, huh?"

"As I was just telling Kate, this girl was long dead before the garbage truck backed over her—thank goodness. Cause of death," Lanie paused to crouch down beside the body, "single stab wound to the carotid artery; she would have been dead almost instantly."

"Body was dumped here, right?"

The ME nodded. "Judging by lack of arterial spray, yes, and I'd estimate TOD between eleven and two a.m. but I'll know more once I get her back to the lab."

Castle thanked her before turning his attention to Kate. "ID on the body?"

She stood and looked at him for the first time. "No, but we got prints and uniforms are looking in these dumpsters for a purse or a wallet."

"Guess it's good they found the body before dumping the trash into this truck, right?" he said, offering her a smile. She stared at him expressionless for a moment longer before turning and walking out of the alley. Castle followed her.

"Kate—wait! Hang on a second. I want to talk to you."

"I have nothing to say," she informed him.

Back out on the sidewalk, he caught up with her and grabbed her under the armpit, spinning her around. She gaped at him incredulously, but he ignored her expression for the moment. "Can't we just have an honest conversation with each other for two seconds? I'm sorry that you're upset, but I won't apologize for telling you how I feel."

He paused, letting those words settle, before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I know you're scared, but so am I. Hell, I'm terrified! I've never felt this way about anyone before—ever. Almost forty years and I…" He let his voice drift off as he opened his arms, palms displayed flat in her direction.

Truly, he couldn't vocalize how he felt about her. All the words in the English language failed him when he looked into her eyes and thought about just how much she made his heart swell. She frustrated him and made him angry, but she also made him happier than he ever thought he could be; than he ever thought possible.

Kate cleared her throat and took a step back from him. "I'll see you back at the twelfth."

With that, she turned and walked back up the street, leaving him slack-jawed behind her.

By mid-morning, Kate was making progress on their latest case. The prints of the victim came back with the name Caitlyn Sanders. The twenty-two year old had a Brooklyn address, but worked in Manhattan. Though she'd been arrested at eighteen for marijuana possession, she had no other criminal activity in her history. Deciding it was best for them to work separately for the time being, Kate sent Castle to the victim's place of work to interview her boss and coworkers while she went to the morgue to learn more about Caitlyn.

"So, what can you tell me about the vic? Did you narrow down time of death?" Kate asked the moment she pushed open the morgue doors.

Standing next to the victim's body, Lanie shot her friend an annoyed look. "Well hello to you to."

Impatient, Kate groaned. "Lanie. The body, please."

Curling her lip up, Lanie pulled off her blue examination gloves and planted both her fists at her hips. "Hold up. What's going on with you? You're all business with me, and you seemed pretty icy with Castle this morning. You two have a fight?"

The detective shut her eyes and shook her head. With an exhale, she explained simply, "Not exactly, but…our partnership is probably over—or, ending."

The ME's eyes bulged. "WHAT?!"

Kate shrugged. "No big deal."

"No big…n-no big…" Lanie stammered, still trying to recover from her shock. "Kate Beckett are you kidding me? This is a huge deal!"

Still knee deep in her denial, Kate flipped her hand casually. "Well, it is what it is. It's obvious we can't stop sleeping together and still be partners at work so it has to be all or nothing."

Lanie shook her head and took a step towards her friend. "I don't understand; where is this coming from? Why now?"

Kate groaned. She definitely was not in the mood for a Castle-related discussion, but if she had to talk about it, she was going to be vague. "It's just…Castle said some things…it really doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does. You have a sort of…panicked, completely freaked out look about you. Oh my god!" she squealed suddenly. Then, clapping her hands together and doing a tiny bounce, she asked, "Did Castle propose to you?"

Kate nearly choked on her own salvia. "What?!" she squeaked. "No. No. No. Of course not. Why would you think that?"

Deflated, Lanie shrugged. "Well, I duuno. You're so commitment phobic I figured that might set you off."

"I'm not commitment phobic," the detective insisted, folding her arms over her chest. Picky, yes. Selective, sure. But not commitment phobic.

Lanie let out a snort of non-belief. "You are. Plus it makes sense…you guys have been dating exclusively for what? A year now, right?"

Kate held up her index finger to correct her clearly insane friend. "Okay, first—we're not dating exclusively. We're not even dating. We are partners with benefits. Second, it's only been eight months."

The ME fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Okay, so he didn't propose. What did happen?"

Kate remained silent, but her friend glared at her harder until she relented. Slumping her shoulders, she shifted her weight between her feet and explained. "He…he wanted to take me as his date to the opening of his mother's play and I told him no and we argued and….he…he may have told me that he's in love with me."

Lanie grinned. "Oh Kate, that's wonderful!" When she noticed her friend's face reflected constipation more than joy, she demanded, "What? What is that look? It is wonderful. I mean, you feel the same way don't you?"

"Lanie…"

As she could detect the slightest bit of rose color creeping into her friend's cheeks, the ME did not back down. "What? You're so obvious Kate. I've seen you two together at crime scenes, remember? Nobody makes you smile like that man. Don't! Don't look at me like that," she scolded when she spotted an eye roll. "You know it's true. He makes you happy, doesn't he Kate?"

Kate practically growled at her friend, "Lanie! The victim! Please!"

"Fine, fine," Lanie relented, turning back to the young woman on her examination table. "COD was as I told you this morning—single stab wound to the neck. She died sometime between midnight and one. I didn't find any defensive wounds on her hands or arms, so my guess would be that she knew her attacker."

"Thanks," Kate said with a nod. She turned to leave but her friend stopped her.

"Just one more thing about Castle, Kate?" Though she looked annoyed, Kate said nothing, so Lanie continued. "You might not be ready to admit how you really feel about him, but think of it this way. What happens if you do get your wish and one of you is transferred to another precinct? What would happen if you never saw him or spoke to him again? How would you feel then?"

* * *

_A/N: You guys didn't think it would be smooth sailing forever, did you? :)_


	23. Chapter 22

**Twenty-two**

"Oh hey," Castle smiled when his partner entered the bullpen just before lunch. "You talk to Lanie?"

Kate nodded. "Nothing new, really. The vic died between midnight and one a.m. and didn't have any defensive wounds, so she probably knew her attacker."

"Ah!" Castle held up an index finger and pulled a small notepad from the breast pocket of his blazer. "On that note—I think I have our first lead. According to Caitlyn's coworkers she had a boyfriend who was a little…rough around the edges, shall we say? They said Caitlyn always complained about him being out of work and a little mean with her, but she didn't express any desires to leave him until recently when, as she explained, he picked up his drug habit again."

Kate fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Sounds like a winner. Did you get a name?"

"From her coworkers? No, but after perusing her Facebook I think I have a pretty good idea. Turner Rutherford—I was just about to run his name right now," Castle explained. Kate nodded and walked around behind her partner so she could view his screen as he searched their database for criminal history.

"Wow," they exclaimed in unison when the many varied mug shots of Turner Rutherford appeared on his screen.

"Well, this suspect just became a little more suspect, didn't he?" Castle added.

As is turned out, Rutherford had over a dozen prior arrests, most of them for drug possession, but one of them was for aggravated assault. "Sounds like we need to pay Mr. Rutherford a visit," Kate concluded once they'd reviewed his rap sheet.

Castle turned with his eyebrows up. "We? You'll let me come with you?"

"In the passenger seat," she said, for the first time since their fight feeling a bit of the playfulness of their partnership return—even if it was short lived. Castle nodded with agreement, grabbed his jacket and followed her to the elevator.

* * *

"Ohh now here's a shocker: the tweaked out addict lives in a sketchy building," Castle proclaimed when they pulled up in front of Rutherford's residence.

Kate "hmm-ed" under her breath as she observed the building. "What did Caitlyn see in this guy, anyway?" she asked more to herself than anything.

"Sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants."

Kate shot her wise-sounding partner a look before getting out of the car. She was going to let his comment wrought with double meaning slide as she needed to keep her wits about her. One thing was certain about buildings filled with drug addicts: cops made them jumpy and she needed to keep her head in the game.

On the second floor, they found Rutherford's residence; the door was cracked open. Kate pulled her weapon from its holster and nodded to her partner to do the same. He took his stance on the opposite side of the door from her and nodded when he was ready. Kate nudged the door open with her elbow and entered, gun first. "Turner Rutherford? NYPD—we'd like to ask you some questions."

Kate's initial reaction upon seeing the apartment was revulsion. Filth and trash covered every surface. Fortunately, the smell wasn't that bad (she had certainly smelled worse), but the appearance was quite disgusting.

With Castle behind her, she tip-toed her way to the kitchen area and checked behind the cabinets. "Clear," she told him quietly.

Castle nodded towards a half open door across the room and Kate bobbed her head in confirmation. Weapon at the ready, she made her way across the room. "Mr. Rutherford? Are you in there? We just-"

Kate's soft voice was interrupted by a primal yell as the bedroom door burst open and a fully nude, filth-covered man burst out. He ran directly into Kate, knocking her to the ground. She landed hard, the air pushed from her lungs and her gun tossed aside.

The man, it appeared, was too dazed or drugged to realize he had run into another person, he merely staggered to his feet, grunting and grumbling. Across the room, Castle was able to fully take in the scene. Once he saw his partner was unarmed, he turned his eyes to the suspect and spotted the glint of metal clutched in his right hand. "Knife!" he announced.

Alerted to Castle's presence by the sound of his voice, the suspect hoisted the weapon and charged towards Castle. In the tight space, the detective was unable to react and thus tackled to the ground by the crazed man. Kate scrambled to her feet and searched for her gun. It had, unfortunately skidded beneath some garbage and was thus not directly in her sight. She searched as quickly and carefully as she could just in case the mountains of debris contained needles or other dangerous items.

"Kate!"

"Oh god, Castle." The strained cry of her partner fueled her search and Kate spotted the muzzle of her weapon sticking out from under a pizza box. She griped it and turned it on the two wrestling men before shouting, "Drop your weapon! Drop it now!"

"Shoot him, Kate! Shoot hi-AHH!" Castle screamed when the suspect's knife penetrated his flesh. Not a second later, two gunshots were heard and the nude man dropped to the ground beside Castle. The detective attempted to push himself away from the body, but found he could not do so without great pain in his right arm. "Ahh! Fuck!"

"Oh god, Castle!" Kate cried out, hurrying across the room and practically leaping over the assailant's body. She put her fingers against his neck, but found no pulse. Turning her eyes to her partner, she felt a fresh onslaught of horror when she spotted the knife imbedded in his shoulder. "I'm so sorry! I was afraid I'd hit you if I shot him." She had hesitated out of fear she would hit her partner in the scuffle and chaos. Her hesitation, of course, was well within protocol, but as a result Castle had been injured and she blamed herself for it.

"'s okay," he grunted tensing his right arm against his side. "Just a flesh wound."

"No its not!" Kate insisted. With trembling hands, she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed into dispatch, reporting to them there was an officer in need of assistance at their address. She requested medical response as well as the coroner. With the call made, she focused back on her wounded colleague.

She searched the surrounding area for something to press against his wound, but nothing in the vicinity seemed remotely clean enough, so she decided her hand would have to suffice. Being mindful of the blade, she pressed her fingertips against the wound; Castle screamed out a curse.

"I'm sorry," she repeated again, using her other hand to gently touch his shoulder.

"'s okay. It doesn't hurt that ba-AH!" he yelped when he tried to adjust his position.

"Try not to move," she told him gently. Then, noticing his paling complexion, her heart wrenched in her chest. "Oh Castle. I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing; you didn't stab me."

"No, about last night," she said. He turned his eyes to her, curious. "What I said last night….I…I didn't mean it."

"I know," he said gently. "It's okay."

"No it's not!" She insisted. "You were right—I was scared. I got scared and I said things I didn't mean…things I shouldn't have said."

He grimaced as a sharp tremor of pain shot through his arm. With a deep breath and a suppressed wince he asked, "You mean you don't want a new partner?"

Tearfully, she shook her head. How could she have been so stupid! Worse than stupid. The prior night, she'd let her fear, her anxiety take over. But watching Castle lie on the ground bleeding from his arm cleared her vision. Loud in her mind she heard Lanie's query from earlier that day. What if she lost Castle entirely from her life? How would she feel then? Devastated; she would be devastated. She only wished her partner had not had to actually be injured for her to see the truth.

"No, I don't want a new partner; how could I? You're…you're not just a partner—you're _everything_."

From the tone of her voice and the look in her eye Castle knew she meant it; every word. Though it pained him greatly, he leaned his head into hers until their noses bumped together. Just before their lips touched, they were interrupted by the thudding of footsteps.

"NYPD! Get your hands—oh…"

"McCreary?!" Kate proclaimed, pulling her head immediately away from Castle's face. She gaped up at their comrade from the twelfth. "How the hell did you get here this fast?"

"I was interviewing a suspect in the neighborhood when I heard the radio call. Jesus," he said, observing the body and surrounding debris. "What the hell happened here?"

"He came at us with a knife," Castle explained then nodded his chin towards his right shoulder. "Obviously."

Seeing the wound, McCreary cringed. "Well, hang in there; ambulance is on its way."

* * *

Fortunately for Castle, his wound was superficial. The blade had not damaged any tendons or ligaments; only soft tissue had been hit. Due to the fact that the injury was on his dominant side, Castle's arm was put in a sling and he was told to rest for a week. After the wound was cleaned, stitched and bandaged, he was released into the care of his partner, who had hovered around him ever since he entered the hospital doors. While they were waiting to see the doctor, she called Montgomery to inform him of the situation. He told her that her paperwork could be done the following day; taking care of her partner should be her priority for that evening.

"Well," Castle began as they drove to Kate's apartment. By sheer luck, Alexis had gone home with a friend to sleep overnight, and thus they could save her from the knowledge of her father's on the job injury—at least for that night. "If I had to get stabbed by a guy, at least it was the guy who killed our vic; we don't have to keep searching."

While they were waiting for the ambulance to arrive, McCreary found blood soaked clothes and another knife tucked under the suspect's bed. Testing at the scene revealed the same blood type as their victim and the CSU techs were reasonably confident further testing would provide a DNA match, thus closing their case.

"Well, I wish you hadn't been stabbed at all," Kate pointed out.

"Me too," he reminded her, skimming his left hand gingerly over his right arm. When he reached the shoulder, he winced. In the hospital, they had offered to give him some of what he deemed "the good drugs" (aka heavy duty painkillers) but he refused, instead only accepting the slightly higher dosage of the over the counter pain relievers. He was a man, he explained; he could tough it out.

Kate eyed him sideways. "You should have taken the Vicodin."

"Kate I'm fine," he assured her. "It only hurts when I move it. Or touch it. Or if the car moves it."

Kate suppressed the urge to roll he eyes. Oh he was a man alright—a complaining man.

After letting them both into her apartment, Kate excused herself to her bedroom to change. Between his blood and the general dirt within the suspect's apartment, she was filthy. Dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, she returned to the kitchen to find Castle standing beside her dining room table.

Damn. She had forgotten about the makeshift murder board for her mother's case that she had created there. Oh well, she decided. He could look at it and she wouldn't chastise him for being curious—particularly not after he'd been stabbed.

Softly, she padded up behind him. When she was only a few inches away, she saw he held in his hand a picture: one of the many crime scene photos of her mother. That particular one was of Johanna's full body, slumped against a dumpster. Though blood covered her chest, her eyes were closed and her face relaxed; she could have been sleeping.

Castle turned his head towards her when he sensed her presence. He suspected for quite some time she had been investigating. The state her dining room was in confirmed it. "You know," he began gently. "We could work on this together. I'm not saying we have to, but it's a thought. Two heads are better than one, right?"

She didn't say anything, which he viewed as neither a negative nor a positive. Trying not to move his right shoulder to excess, he leaned over and put the photo back where he had found it. Then, he rotated his body towards hers. "Judging by the fact that you haven't mauled me yet, you're considering this. I won't push; just take your time and think about it."

She nodded and said, "I will," and she truly meant it. Then, she offered him a half smile before gesturing towards the kitchen. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"As much as I'd like some, I don't think alcohol will mix with my meds so—water?"

She nodded, and retrieved two bottles before leading the way to the couch. She sat on his left side and picked up his hand with hers. "Castle, I'm so sorry about last night."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not." They had a moment long stare off before she grumbled. "It's not—it's not ok. I'm being serious here."

He squeezed her hand. "I know."

She skimmed her nails across his fingertips as she tried to think of the words. The words she refused to acknowledge—the ones she never let herself think about, even if they were the truth. "It's just, when it came to relationships I just never let myself get involved for…well, a number of reasons I'm sure you don't want to hear about."

"No," he said instantly. "I do. Tell me, please."

She tucked her hair behind her ears with both hands before picking up his left one again. "I guess…I guess I subconsciously had this checklist of characteristics I wanted in a man and if I would find someone who didn't tick all the boxes then I just wrote him off without even giving him a chance. I was a little picky I guess."

"A little?" He arched an eyebrow at her.

She smiled slightly. "Very picky."

He let out a breathy laugh. "I don't imagine I check many of your boxes, do I Kate?"

She smiled big and wide, scooting herself a bit closer to his thigh. "No, see that's the thing—you do. These…these past eight months with you have been…unexpected." She laughed as she said the word; it seemed like a grand understatement. "But wonderful. In my head I always said I wanted someone who would make me laugh and make me smile and forget about all the dark things that happen to me day after day. When we first met I was too annoyed by you to let you do that for me."

"Thanks," he interjected with a grumble.

"But now…I can't imagine getting through any of this without you. So, ah," she paused to lace her fingers through his, "that's kind of my roundabout way of telling you: no, I haven't been with anyone else since we started sleeping together; I never even thought about it."

Relief and a sense of triumph flooded his body. He knew it—he just knew it! Despite the pain it caused him, he leaned over and kissed her gently. When their lips separated, their noses bumped together and they both smiled.

After just a moment, Kate's expression turned a bit more serious. "Listen, Castle I'm going to need us to take things slow here. With this whole relationship thing, I mean, because I want to do things right. It's…it's been a really long time since I had anything resembling a relationship let alone a family. Lanie's right—I'm totally commitment phobic," she confessed with a self-depreciating laugh.

"No you're not."

"I am!" She insisted. "That's why I refused to admit that we were in an actual relationship even when we were clearly in an actual relationship!"

Okay, she had a point there, but he still disagreed with her. "Well, that may be true, but actions speak louder than words, Kate. You wouldn't have taken my daughter ice skating, or spent that whole evening trying to recreate that Pinterest hairstyle if you were."

Kate's eyes widened at the mention of the night from two weeks earlier; she was still annoyed about it. "Okay that thing was impossible!" She claimed, stabbing a finger in his direction.

He chuckled. "I know; I remember."

As the amusement faded back into embarrassment, she shrugged and shrank away from him. "Still…I feel commitment phobic."

"Why?"

"Because…I was afraid of committing to a relationship or a family again after having it all blow up in my face. My dad and I…we've come a long way in the past few years, but it's still not the same. Even without his drinking I'm not sure it ever could have been without my mom. When she died, I closed myself off to all of that—love, family—but I don't want to live like that anymore." She leaned her head against his arm and took in a deep breath. "I just…I need to go slow because the last thing I'd want to do is hurt you. Or Alexis."

At the mention of his daughter, Castle's heart began to flutter. So she wasn't just worried about the two of them; she was thinking about the _three_ of them. That made him love her even more. "Kate, about Alexis. I…I would never ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with. I mean…that whole first period incident aside."

She lifted her head to look at him. "Well technically you didn't ask me to do that…but no, it's fine. I know you wouldn't ask, but I want you to know that I really care about her. She's a great kid. I just wish I knew how that happened."

His eyes widened at her sly smile. "Hey!"

She giggled and pressed her lips against his. Then, skimming her fingertips up his arm she danced them across his neck before taking his earlobe between her fingers. "Do you think you're up for a little makeup sex? I don't want to hurt your shoulder…"

"Actually," he informed her. "I think makeup sex is one of the doctor recommended pain killing methods."

She bit her bottom lip to fight a laugh. "Is it?"

"Oh yes, it is." Their lips had barely touched when Castle's cell phone began ringing. He cursed immediately. "Damn it, I cannot catch a break today!"

As his cell phone was in his right pocket, Kate retrieved it for him and he pressed it to his ear. The call turned out to be from the mother of the girl Alexis intended on spending the night with. Evidently, the two teens had fought and Alexis had stormed out of the apartment before the mother realized. The mother told him she believed Alexis was on her way home, but she wanted to let him know what was going on.

Immediately after hanging up, Castle began to panic, but Kate managed to calm him down by telling him she would drive him home where, hopefully, they would find Alexis. If not, she would lead the search for the young girl as he wasn't exactly in a state to run around lower Manhattan searching for her. Fortunately, that was not needed. They only took three steps into Castle's apartment before sounds of crying were heard from Alexis's bedroom.

Kate and Castle found the red-head face down on her mattress, still in her school uniform. "Alexis, honey, what happened?" Castle asked from the doorway.

"Nothing," was her muffled response.

"It's not nothing if you left your friend's house. What's going on?"

"Nothing 'cept Ella's a bitch!"

"Excuse me young lady!" Castle boomed as Kate cringed. "We do not use words like that in this house."

Alexis whipped herself upright. "But she is, she—Dad!" she shrieked upon sight of her father—and his new sling—for the first time. "What happened to your arm?!"

"Never mind me; I'm fine," he promised her. "You, however, will not be if you use language like that again, is that understood?"

"Yes, Dad; sorry, Dad," Alexis mumbled, her eyes downcast.

Kate stepped around her fuming partner and crouched down beside the young girl's bed. "You wanna tell us what happened at Ella's house that made you so upset?"

"Nothing," Alexis muttered. "She was just mean to me…making fun of me…"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kate told her, "but unfortunately sometimes that stuff happens. Sometimes, people who we think are our friends aren't nice to us anymore, but it's very important that, no matter what happens, _you_ keep being nice to Ella. I know you might not want to, but that's what growing up is about; being the bigger person."

After her speech, Kate glanced back at her partner, who was giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up. It was all she could do not to laugh.

"I know," Alexis said after a moment. "I was just…just lookin' forward to the sleepover."

Kate rocked back on her heels and thought a moment. "Well, I'll tell ya what—why don't we have a sleepover? Assuming it's okay with your father."

When she looked back up at her partner, she saw he wore an unsure expression. As he gestured for her to do so, she stood and stepped out in the hall with him. "What about makeup sex?" he whispered to her.

"Really!?" she demanded of him. Honestly—that was his concern!? "First, you should be resting. Second, look how upset Alexis is; I'm just trying to make her feel better."

"But!"

"A few more hours won't kill you, Castle," she pointed out.

He sighed reluctantly. "I suppose you have a point; my arm does kinda hurt."

Kate gave him a pointed look before poking her head back into the girl's bedroom. "So whatdya say Alexis? Wanna have a sleepover with me?"

Alexis considered this for a moment. "Can we give each other manicures?"

"Sure." Kate laughed.

Alexis nodded. "Ok!"

* * *

Two hours later with lime green toenails and hot pink fingernails, Kate sat on the couch with Alexis as the credits of their movie began to roll. After much whining on his part, she finally convinced Castle to take one of his extra strength pain killers and go to bed. In the meantime, she and the teen snacked on popcorn, painted nails, and braided pigtails in each other's hair.

When Kate plucked the DVD from the player and put it back in the case, she heard from the couch a soft voice say, "Kate? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Well, uh," Alexis picked at a spare thread on her pajama pants as she asked, "how-how old were you when you had your first kiss?"

Ah, Kate thought to herself; the origins of the party fight were coming out. She walked back to the sofa, tucked one leg underneath her and sat back down. "Well, I think I was around your age; thirteen."

Alexis's gaze flicked momentarily towards Kate and then returned to her plaid pants. "Like, you had just turned thirteen or you were almost fourteen?"

Kate cleared her throat. "Alexis, is that why the girls were making fun of you tonight? Because you haven't kissed a boy?"

Reluctantly, the younger girl nodded.

"Well you know what? As far as I'm concerned that's none of their business. Who cares if you're twelve, thirteen or sixteen? It's _your_ first kiss; not theirs. And, by the way, that goes for other firsts, too," she added pointedly. Alexis looked up at her, her whole face a fiery red. Feeling guilty, Kate quickly apologized. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"'s okay," she mumbled. "It's just…what if a boy never wants to kiss me?"

"Oh Alexis, I promise you that won't happen. You're a beautiful girl and boys will absolutely want to kiss you, just don't rush it okay, because, really, it doesn't matter when it happens." When the girl eyed her skeptically, she continued. "I'm serious, it won't. I know that stuff seems so important right now, but when you grow up and you meet the right person and fall in love you won't even think about things like that."

"Like with you and my dad?" Alexis asked in a small voice.

Kate nodded. "Exactly. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I thought about my first kiss and I probably wouldn't have thought about it if you hadn't asked."

Upon hearing this, the younger girl's gloomy expression brightened. "Thanks, Kate."

"Anytime," Kate smiled. "Is there anything else you want to ask me?"

Alexis shook her head. "No, I think I'm just gonna go read. You don't have to stay out here with me; you can go to bed with my dad."

"You sure?" Kate asked her. She had been fully prepared to sleep on the couch or the floor with Castle's daughter, as that was sleep-over protocol, but she couldn't say she was disappointed when Alexis relieved her of her prior commitment.

After giving Alexis a goodnight hug, Kate padded her way back to Castle's bedroom. When she passed Alexis's room she smiled inwardly; maybe this family thing wasn't going to be so hard after all.

Kate tip-toed her way into the bedroom and sat down as gingerly as she could, but she still managed to wake her partner. Before she fully lay down she heard his sleepy, "Kate? 'zat you?"

"Shh," she hushed him. "Go back to sleep."

"Is 'lexis okay?"

"Mmhmm, she's fine; I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

"'Kay," he mumbled shifting against the pillows. Thinking he was falling back to sleep, Kate settled herself on her side facing him. She shut her eyes and listened to the rhythmic sound of his breathing only to be interrupted a minute later. "Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"You're the best."

She let out a light laugh. "Goodnight, Castle."

* * *

_A/N: short lived angst! :) Also an FYI - I'm going to visit my best friend this weekend so there will be no Saturday update. Next update will be Wednesday July 1_

_(omg how did it get to be July!?)_


	24. Chapter 23

_A/n: thank you guys for being patient this week! Here's an extra long chapter for you! Enjoy!_

* * *

**Twenty-three**

Castle spent the weekend after being stabbed resting in his apartment with both his girlfriend and daughter doting on him. By Sunday, Kate doubted he even noticed the pain in his shoulder; he was having too much fun bossing them around. Of course, after he almost had Alexis marching out the door to get him a different flavor of ice cream, Kate provided him with a much deserved reality check.

After visiting with his regular doctor on Monday, Castle was cleared to return to the twelfth for desk duty until his stitches came out; then he would be reevaluated. Unfortunately, since his injury occurred on his dominant side, he was told he would probably need to be recertified to carry a weapon before returning to active duty, but he told Kate he didn't mind; he was an excellent shot and that would never change. To this, Kate rolled her eyes.

When Castle returned to the homicide bullpen on Tuesday morning he was met with a rousing round of applause. He accepted it graciously and was all too happy to sit on the edge of his desk and recount his tale of heroism. As he regaled their fellow officers with his bravery, Kate was content to sit back in her chair and watch. After being stabbed he certainly had the right to a little revelry.

Unfortunately, their captain did not seem to share that opinion. Just after lunch, he called both Castle and Kate into his office, his expression as grim as they'd ever seen it. "Of course I'm glad you're alright, Detective," Montgomery said to Castle after he'd directed them both to sit, "but unfortunately we have some serious business to discuss."

Kate exchanged confused glances with her partner. "Is something wrong, sir?"

Montgomery clasped his hands together and rested them on his desk. "It has been reported to me that there has been some inappropriate conduct between the two of you and I'm giving you a chance to come clean with me about it. Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Kate sat back in her seat and thought. As Montgomery was bringing this up now, she could only assume that whatever conduct had been reported to him had occurred recently, but she could not for the life of her think of what it could have been. She had Castle were extremely careful not to show affection outside of their apartments just in case they would be seen. They hadn't gone out to dinner in weeks, nor had they done any other outings that could have been viewed in any other light than two coworkers spending time together out of the office.

Thoroughly at a loss, she looked over at her partner; he appeared equally befuddled. Turning back to Montgomery she said, "Sir, we have no idea what you're talking about."

The captain combed his fingertips through his mustache before giving them each a pointed look. "So you're not in a romantic relationship?"

In all honesty, Montgomery did not need to ask the question to know the answer to it. He'd had his suspicions for months, but he was alright with turning a blind eye. Their case closure rate was remarkable, and who was he to mess with a good thing? Unfortunately, when an incident was reported to him, he could no longer ignore what was going on between the two blushing detectives.

"Because," he continued, "you are aware of the NYPD's strict policy on personal relationships between coworkers."

Castle cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Well, sir, ah-"

Sensing a bullshit laden story coming, Kate stepped in. "Yes, sir; it's true." Kate ignored the incredulous look her partner was giving her; there was no sense in lying. She had known the captain long enough to know he wouldn't be broaching this subject with them unless he had actual evidence.

The captain leaned back in his seat. "Well, Beckett you put me in a difficult position here. Technically, this means I need to terminate your partnership immediately."

Shit! This was definitely not what she wanted. She opened her mouth to protest, but Castle beat her to it.

"Sir, please-"

Montgomery held up his hand to silence the detective. "The problem is you two have the highest case closure rate in this precinct. Hell, in half the precincts in Manhattan if not all of them. That puts me in a very difficult position because generally the mayor and commissioner value case closure rates over interpersonal issues." He paused and shifted his head back and forth. "If it was just me, I could let it slide, but this has been reported by one of your coworkers."

"Who?" Castle asked immediately.

Montgomery blinked at him. "You know I can't tell you that, Castle. So the question is: what are we going to do here?"

The detectives sat silently for a minute. Kate didn't know what to think. She understood Montgomery's dilemma. Technically, if their infraction was reported to him he couldn't not do anything about it, but how could she agree to terminating their partnership? How could she work with any other person now that she'd worked with the most important person in her life?

Castle felt the same way as she did, but was a bit quicker on his feet when it came to coming up with a solution. "Why don't you put us on probation? Unofficially, of course. If we do anything unprofessional, I'll transfer out."

"Castle!" Kate gasped, fearful of what such a deal could lead to in their future.

He turned to her with a smile. "It's okay, Kate."

Montgomery considered the detective suggestion and then nodded. "Those terms seem fair to me. You agree, Beckett?"

Kate looked at him and then back to her partner. When he gave her a subtle nod, she reluctantly turned back to their captain. "Yes sir."

The captain dismissed Castle, but asked Beckett to remain for a moment. When they sat in silence for a full minute after her partner had gone, Kate finally asked, "Was there something you needed, sir?"

"Oh no, no I was just giving you the opportunity to thank me—or would that be too much to ask for?"

Kate's brow wrinkled at her superior's cheeky grin. "Sir?"

"You know—thank me for _forcing_ you to take Castle as your partner. That turned out rather well, didn't it?"

Kate's jaw dropped at Montgomery's tone of pure amusement and the older man let out a hearty laugh. "Just tryin' to keep you on your toes, Kate."

"Thanks," she grumbled at him. Then, she returned to the bullpen and scurried over to her partner's desk. She plopped herself on the edge before poking his right arm. He winced when he turned to her. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded of him.

"What do you mean?" he questioned. She gestured towards Montgomery's office with a pointed look. His face relaxed. "Oh, that. Don't worry, Kate; we'll be fine. We'll just have to behave ourselves—which, by the way, I thought we were." He glanced around the surrounding area as he said, "We just have to figure out who the snitch is."

"Oh I think I know," Kate informed him. Castle glanced at her and noticed her nod in a direction that was behind him. Spinning in his chair, he saw who Kate was referring to. McCreary stared across the bullpen at them with a particularly malicious look. With a growl under his breath, Castle made to stand, but she stopped him. "No, don't; it'll only make it worse."

Reluctantly, Castle submitted to her request. Kate patted his arm before standing and walking back to her seat. She had only been sitting a few minutes before she craned her head around her computer screen to look at him. "Hey," she began, calling his attention. "After our shift can you come back to my apartment with me? There's something I want to show you."

"Is it lingerie?"

She gaped at his smirk. "Castle! Low profile!"

He shrugged innocently. "No one heard me."

* * *

As Kate unlocked the door to her apartment, nervous butterflies filled her stomach. She shouldn't have been nervous, she knew that. There was no way he would react negatively in any way to what she said—she was certain of it. Still, her gut churned.

Letting him in—letting him all the way in—was scary. The good kind of scary, but still scary, particularly since she had never let anyone in like this before. He was the right man to let in, though; no doubt existed in her mind.

When the door was unlocked, she took his hand and led him over to the makeshift murder board for her mother's case she created in her dining area. She stood in front of him and gestured to the walls lined with photos, notes, and files. "I thought about what you said—your offer to help me with my mother's case, and…and I think maybe we should work together on this. I've been through everything a hundred times, but maybe you'll see something I didn't. Wouldn't be the first time," she added in a lighter tone.

For almost a solid minute, Castle stared at her. He was elated with her invitation and had full intentions on accepting it momentarily, but he wanted to wait just another few seconds; he wanted to savor that moment. She was letting him in. Walls obliterated, armor gone; this was her way of saying that she loved him.

He stepped forward, extended his left arm and pulled her in. "Of course, Kate," he said gently to her ear. "I'll help in any way I can."

She pulled back from his embrace and kissed him, long and sweet. She nudged their noses together and skimmed her fingers down his jaw before walking towards the kitchen to see if there was anything for them to eat. Castle watched her go as a thought entered his mind. She had shared something with him, and it was time he shared something with her.

"Hey Kate? Ah, this is kind of odd, but there's something I've wanted to tell you, but I just couldn't find the right time. This seems as good as any," he added with a nervous laugh, rocking back on his heels.

Her brow wrinkled as she looked at him. "Something…bad?"

"No, no," he said quickly. "At least, I don't think it is. I, um, I've been working on a new book."

Her face relaxed immediately. "A book? Why didn't you tell me? That's great!"

He nodded; she had no idea. "It has been great—really great. I, ah—remember a few months ago when you found that stickie note on my desk with the name Nikki Heat?" Her head bobbed and he continued. "Well, she's my new character: a smart, savvy, sexy NYPD detective. And she's based on you."

Kate's face flushed. "Me?!"

"Yes."

"No…" When Castle nodded her head, Kate felt herself blushing even further. He couldn't possibly be serious! He must have been teasing her. "Castle c'mon. That's ridiculous."

"Why? I wanted Nikki to be someone amazing, strong, and brilliant at her job so who better to model her after than you?"

Completely flustered, Kate danced her fingertips across her brow. "Castle…you can't. I mean… wh-when did you start writing this?"

"A while ago, but I've been writing a lot more in the past few months. You're very inspirational."

Kate could feel her cheeks heat at his words. The way he was looking at her and the tone in his voice made every inch of her skin feel like it was on fire. His eyes worshiped her with a devotion she wasn't sure she could even fathom let alone reciprocate.

Noting his partner's positively embarrassed expression, he cleared his throat. "Look, I don't know if anyone will want to publish it, but I wanted to tell you about it…make sure it's okay with you."

Kate thought about this for a moment. She could hardly make that assessment on the little information he'd given her. "Can I read what you've written?"

"Ah," he cringed unintentionally. "Sure. I guess can show you a few chapters."

Kate nodded and then scrunched her nose. "But Nikki Heat? That's the name you're going with?"

He chuckled. "What's wrong with it?"

"She sounds a little…strippery."

"Well, that is her day job –ah! Kidding." He said, quickly rotating his body to escape a slap she'd directed towards him. "Jesus woman I was stabbed in that arm!"

She flashed him an amused look. "Sorry. But it's your own fault."

"Touché," he said before kissing her.

When she stepped back from him, she shrugged. "Well, I don't think I have any food so…"

"So let's go out—Brady's?" he suggested.

Kate arched her eyebrow at him. "The bar?"

"What?" he responded simply. "You like their burgers and I kind of want wings."

Kate glanced at his sling and then his face. "And how will you eat them with one hand?"

Castle's expression feel. "Damn it."

Kate laughed. "Let's go somewhere else."

"No, no—it'll be fine; I promise."

* * *

Despite Castle's promise, Brady's was not "fine." The moment they walked in, Kate spotted McCreary sitting at the bar. She told Castle they should just leave and go to a real restaurant, but he refused. He was going to speak with their coworker and she wasn't going to stop him that time. Just like with one of their cases, he wanted a confession.

Castle walked over, plopped himself down on the stool beside McCreary and didn't even wait for the man to look at him before demanding, "What the hell is your problem?"

McCreary glanced casually towards Castle. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell you don't," Castle spat. "You turned us in to Montgomery." McCreary turned on his stool so that he faced the sling-wearing detective and the female standing beside him. When a smirk crossed his face, Castle continued. "Don't deny it; it had to be you."

McCreary picked up his mug of beer and took a casual sip. "So what if I did?"

"Why'd you do it? We weren't bothering anyone…"

Setting down his beer, McCreary looked at them both. "I just didn't think you two should allowed to get away with breaking the rules."

At that moment, another officer from the twelfth approached them with a chipper smile. "Hey guys, you wanna watch the—what's going on here?" His tone turned serious when he saw the expressions on the detectives' faces.

McCreary picked up his beer and used it to gesture at the couple. Just as casually as ever he said, "They're fucking each other."

Castle lunged for McCreary with his one good arm, but Kate was fast enough to grab his shoulder and pull him back before any damage could be inflicted. "Don't!"

Castle growled at McCreary. "Don't you dare talk about her like that!"

McCreary smirked and slid off his seat before the larger man could do any damage. "Just stating the truth, pal."

When he walked away, a moment of silence hung in the bar before the officer looked at Kate and Castle and asked, "So…are you guys going public with this now?"

"What?" they asked in unison.

The officer rocked back on his heels with a smile. "Well, I mean, we all kind of knew…"

"You knew?!" Kate shrieked.

He bobbed his head. "Sure…I mean we figured you couldn't have a partner for this long unless something else was going on. Besides, LT said he saw you coming out of that janitor's closet on the ground floor a few months back."

Kate covered her face and moaned while Castle let out a loud laugh. Once she recovered from her mortification. She smacked the uninjured shoulder of her boyfriend.

He recoiled, but still smiled. "Oh c'mon Kate; this is hilarious. How can you not see how funny this is?"

She folded her arms over her chest and looked at the cluster of officers across the room. They were all laughing—probably at her. "They all know about us."

"So? That's a good thing. We don't have to hide anymore though I guess we should probably stay out of the janitor's closet…"

Kate groaned and covered her face. Thank god that wasn't the incident Montgomery had confronted them about!

The longer she thought about it, the more Kate realized her partner had a point—not about the situation being hilarious, because it definitely wasn't, but about it being a relief; they didn't have to sneak around anymore. "I guess this means we have to come clean to my dad, and your mom…and Alexis."

Castle laughed again at the mention of his child. "Oh I think Alexis has us pretty well figured out, but you're right we'll tell her officially—together. Tomorrow night."

Kate swallowed hard. "Oh…don't you think you should tell her alone?"

He eyed her curiously. "Kate we're not going to tell her anything she hasn't already figured out. Unless…you want me to tell her alone?"

She shook her head. "No, no it's just…"

"What?" he asked when he saw her biting her lip. She looked up at him, uncertain.

"I don't want her to be mad at me."

"Mad at you?" he repeated. "Why would she be? She already knows; it'll be fine."

* * *

As Castle had predicted, his daughter was almost entirely nonplussed by the announcement of their official relationship. As she put it, she already thought it was official and, as far as she could tell, nothing would be changing between them. Castle found her declaration far more amusing than Kate, who was simply glad the girl didn't hate her.

Once Alexis had disappeared to her bedroom to work on homework, Kate turned to her partner. "So, about this book you told me about. Nikki Heat?"

Castle eyed her curiously. "Yeah?"

Kate smiled an innocent smile at him. "May I see it? Please?"

Castle grumbled. Letting anyone—his mother, daughter, and previous wife included—see his works before he was satisfied with their completion always made him feel more naked than he did without clothing on. It wasn't as though he didn't trust Kate; he did. He just wasn't convinced the story had reached its maximum potential yet. "Oh, Kate, I dunno. It's not…I mean, I'm not sure if-"

"Please?" she repeated, stepping up to him and looping her arms around his neck. "Just the first chapter? I want to know a little more about it."

She dusted a few kisses across his bottom lip and he groaned with submission; she sure knew how to convince him, which, he decided at that moment, may or may not prove troublesome for him down the line. "Okay, just….just don't be too harsh. I haven't really gone through it and there are probably some typos and-"

"Castle," she said with a laugh, "I'm a regular person, not your editor."

"Right," he nodded before walking over to retrieve his laptop. He shook out his hands and pressed the power button and then sat down, his foot tapping as he impatiently waited for it to boot up.

Kate walked up behind him and skimmed her fingertips over his shoulder. "It's kind of adorable to see you flustered like this," she informed him.

He glanced up at her. "I'm not flustered."

"You are," she assured him. He grumbled, but otherwise said nothing.

After her boyfriend reluctantly passed over his laptop, Kate took it to the couch with her and settled in for what she anticipated to be a very good read. She quickly found reading a word document on his computer was not as nice as being able to read an actual hardback novel, but in this case she would make an exception; she just wanted to learn a little more about Nikki Heat.

Within just a few pages, Kate quickly found the more she read, the less she wanted to stop. She had told Castle she would read only the first chapter, but she blew right past the first and second chapters without ever thinking about stopping. While she enjoyed his first two books very much, there was no question in her mind this was the best thing he had even written. True, her opinion was bias as she noticed more than a little of herself in Nikki, but she still believed it was excellent.

When Kate finished the third chapter, she finally forced herself to put the laptop aside. She bit down on her thumbnail and stared at the screen, reviewing what she had just read. The story alone was fantastic, but it was so much more than that. She could feel the love that Castle poured into his lead character. He was devoted to her; he worshiped her. He described her as though she was sent down from the heavens which amazed her even more as by his own admission he was, in effect, describing her.

To her great joy, she discovered a piece of Castle had entered the book as well. At the end of the first chapter, the reader was introduced to a character named Jameson Rook. It took her all of tens seconds to realize this character was Castle's reflection of himself. As the second and third chapters progressed, Kate realized that Rook, a journalist interested in doing an article on Nikki and her team, would become Nikki's love interest and that's when it hit her. The book wasn't just about her; it was about them—them falling in love.

Several minutes after she had finished reading, Kate still felt she was at a loss for words, but she could feel the eyeballs drilling into the back of her skull. Still silent, she turned around and found him tip-toeing up, a fear-laden grimace on his face.

"So what do you think? Do you hate it? Was it awful? Should I just start completely over? Or maybe I should stop all together because-"

Kate cut of his ramblings with her lips against his. She gripped his cheeks between her hands and pressed their bodies together until she felt his left arm slide around her waist. With their foreheads bumping together, she held his face close and whispered, "I love you."

Castle pulled his head back. "You love it or me?"

She laughed and brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. "Both!"

Castle's eyes searched hers, but he found nothing but joy and devotion reflecting back. When another tear slipped down her cheek, he brushed it with his thumb and his heart swelled more than he thought possible. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, Castle. It's incredible. You have to finish it—you have to publish it! It's going to be amazing. And," she paused to draw his body back into hers, "I'm sorry. I was scared, but I'm not anymore."

"Why?" he asked reflexively then quickly backtracked. "I mean not that I'm not thrilled because I am but…why?"

She shrugged with a happy little laugh. She couldn't fully explain it, but his words on the computer screen had spoken to her on an almost spiritual level. "I guess…I guess because I never let anyone love me like this before and I didn't understand how you could but reading this…I get it; I get it now."

His grin grew wider. "Good because Kate I-"

Again, she interrupted him with a kiss. "You know, Castle as much as I appreciate your talent with words, I really prefer being _shown_ more than being told."

He groaned when she bumped their hips together. "Jesus if we were alone I would _show_ you right here on this couch."

Kate let out a laugh before grasping his hand in hers and pulling him towards the bedroom.


	25. Chapter 24

**Twenty-four**

For Castle, the first two months of his and Kate's official relationship could not have been more perfect. Of course, in many ways, their relationship hadn't changed at all. They worked cases together, solving many of the city's toughest homicides, and spent time together outside the precinct as well. They ate dinner, went to movies, did activities with Alexis, and, naturally, spent a fair amount of time secluded in his bedroom.

As summer began, things began to feel even more idyllic. The weather was warm and there were more activities for them to do outside. They'd even planned a vacation together: they were taking Alexis to the beach for a long weekend.

On an ordinary day in June Castle was making his best effort to clean up his desk area after a particularly hearty teasing session from his girlfriend. He wouldn't deny it was covered in more crumbs and dust than it should have been, but he maintained his excuse was their busy caseload. Back-to-back homicides gave them hardly enough time to finish paperwork let alone tidy up their spaces. Granted, Kate, the neater of the two, never had much to clean up—but that was beside the point.

That particular day they did not have a case and were on catch up duty. While Kate processed some of their more complicated paperwork, he decided to clean up his desk. He retrieved sanitizing wipes from the supply closet and moved all the items to one side of his desk before wiping it down. As he was in the process of switching sides so he could repeat the process, he inadvertently spilled his half-full mug of coffee. Much to his dismay, some of the liquid traveled onto his partner's desk.

"Crap," he groaned under his breath. Using the sanitizing wipes, he began corralling the liquid that had encroached upon her space before it got on anything or—god forbid—damaged anything. Unfortunately, in his hasty attempt to do this, he ended up knocking some things over on her desk.

Her cup of pencils and highlighters toppled over, scattering writing utensils every which way. As that cup was made of heavy duty plastic, he was not concerned. What did concern him, however, was that he held also knocked over her elephant statue. That piece was, most unfortunately, porcelain and thus able to break.

For as long as he had known her, Kate's "Elephants on Parade" statue had sat at the back edge of her desk right beside her computer monitor. Castle had stared at it many times over the years, and he always found it…well, odd. There was nothing particularly wrong with the statue, he just didn't like it and for some reason it never seemed to fit Kate's personality—at least, not in his mind. Still, she seemed to like the piece, so he never said anything about it.

Quickly, before she returned from the bathroom, Castle picked up the statue and wiped it down with one of the lemon-scented wipes, figuring he could replace it before she even noticed. That's when he saw it and his heart dropped towards his shoes: the body portion of the lead elephant was missing; it had broken off.

Before he even had the chance to form a curse in his mind, he heard the click of her heels approaching and looked up, his face a bit paler. He could not have been caught more red handed. Or, in this case, broken elephant handed.

Kate stopped walking when she reached her desk. She looked up, observed the bizarre scene before her, and her brow wrinkled. Instantly, an apology exploded from her boyfriend's mouth.

"Oh my god, Kate; I am so sorry! I am so, so sorry! It was an accident, I swear! I spilled coffee and I bumped this and it fell over and I'm so sorry!"

"Did something break?" she asked, reaching her hand out for the statue. Castle passed it over with a cringe. When Kate took the item in her hand, she noticed the same thing he had: the broken back on the lead elephant.

"I'm so sorry!"

When she glanced up and saw the pitiful look on his face, the tightness in her chest lessened. "It's okay, Castle; accidents happen. Where's the…oh." She picked up the piece that broke off from its position beside her keyboard.

"Here let me see it. I bet I can super glue it back together," Castle said, holding out his hands. She passed the elephants and the broken piece back to him and he attempted to put them together. He didn't see it until he put the elephant's back in its rightful place. The edges of the smaller piece weren't sharp or cracked; they were polished and smooth. That wouldn't have happened if the piece broke off, right? "Hey wait," he began cautiously, "I don't think this broke off…it looks like it was meant to come apart."

"Really?" she asked, craning her neck. She had no idea the elephants had a secret compartment.

"Yeah look," Castle said, holding it up. At that exact moment, he seated the elephant's back into its proper position and it snapped into place, making it look as though it had never been separated. "Huh."

"Oh," she said, staring at it for another minute. Then, she shrugged. "Okay, well, thanks."

Kate reached for the back of her chair, pulled it out from her desk, and sat without thinking. Only when her backside connected with the seat did she realize she was sitting on something sharp. Confused, she stood again and looked down. There, in the center of her seat, sat a petite cassette tape. She picked it up and held it between her index finger and thumb. "Castle, what's this?"

He looked across the desks at his partner. "A cassette tape?"

"Yeah. It was on my seat…"

Castle considered this for a moment before his eyes widened and he practically leapt into the air. "The elephant! It must have come out of the elephant! Oh my god!" He snatched the item back from her desk and flipped it over as though the underneath side would reveal a secret message. "Where did you get this thing? A thrift shop? I bet the original owner put that tape in the elephant for safe keeping because, as you well know, elephants never forget. Ooooh! What if it's a tape from the Watergate scandal!"

Kate's brow wrinkled. "What? No… No, this belonged to my mother."

Castle looked down at the item he held. "The elephants did?"

She nodded. "They sat on the desk in her office."

"So…what do you think is on the tape?"

Kate dropped the tape into her palm and examined both sides, but there were no markings. Looking back up to her partner she said, "I don't know, but we need to find out."

* * *

As they had spent more time than they should have in the precinct supply closet (for reasons neither of them cared to disclose) Castle recalled seeing an old tape recorder there from when they were forced to record their interrogations analogue not digitally. Fortunately, he was able to find the device again with little trouble. Back on the homicide floor, they sealed themselves into one of the small conference rooms and placed the cassette in the player.

Kate hovered her finger over the "play" button for several seconds, feeling the cool metal beneath her fingertip. She hadn't the slightest idea what the tape would contain, but she had a sinking suspicion it would be a recording of her mother's voice—a voice she hadn't heard in over a decade. No matter what that voice was saying—even if it was just dictating notes—she wasn't sure if she was ready to hear it.

Sensing her hesitation, Castle's wrist closed over hers. She looked up and found comfort in the smile he offered her. With a deep breath, she pressed play.

As it turned out, there were multiple voices on the tape. Three, to be exact and none of them were female. Instead, Castle and Kate sat silently listening to the discussion between the three men. Blackmail, extortion, and threats. Kate's brow wrinkled as she looked at her partner; his expression remained equally as confused until they heard the sentence that would change everything.

_"…if anyone gets too close like that bitch lawyer Joanna Beckett who's been poking around, I'll have them killed; I've had people killed before."_

"Castle," Kate exhaled slowly, looking over to her partner with eyes wide. He swallowed hard, knowing he was thinking the same thing as she. He gripped her wrist a bit tighter as she rewound the tape and played it again.

"Hang on," Castle said, reaching out to pause the player. "Is that…Montgomery?"

"The captain?"

He nodded. "Yeah, listen."

He pressed play again, and the voice sounded even clearer. Then, when he was addressed as "Roy" they knew for certain.

Kate could feel her gut begin to churn. "He…he was involved? He knew?"

Castle shrugged. Then, he rewound the tape and played it for a third time. "That voice…the man making the threats…it sounds so familiar, but I can't place it."

Kate stood from her seat immediately. "We need to talk to him."

Castle stood as well. "Whoa, Kate; hold on. Just hold on one second, we need to think about this."

In the prior eight weeks they had begun to look into her mother's murder. She caught him up to speed and then they began looking into the assassin Dick Coonan's financial records together. They also examined the autopsy files of the victim's whose murders matched that of Kate's mother. In doing so, they were able to find a woman that Joanna worked with who was also murdered. This led them to believe that she was killed for a case she was working on, but that was a dead end.

Kate had already looked through her open cases years earlier, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary with in them. If she was looking into anything else, it was off the books. Unfortunately, many of Joanna's notes were encrypted and Kate had never been able to crack the code. Castle took a stab at it, but was no more successful. The cassette tape was not only their most promising lead in weeks, it appeared to be the smoking gun.

Kate looked at her partner, fury in her eyes. "If he was involved in my mother's murder I want to know about it—right now."

Snatching the cassette player from the table, Kate marched out of the conference room and through the open door of the Captain's office. Castle scurried after her and shut the door once they were inside. Montgomery looked up, curious. Kate said nothing; she merely pressed play on the recorder.

As the crackling audio filled the office, Montgomery shrank in his seat, and his expression turned to stone. When Kate stopped the tape she threw the recorder on his desk and folded her arms over her chest. "You knew. My mother's murder—you knew all along. All those years ago you found me looking into her file and you knew—you knew who killed her."

"I didn't know about Coonan—I swear. I didn't know who had actually killed her," Montgomery said, his voice pleading.

"But you know who hired the hit, don't you?" When, after a moment, Montgomery remained silent, Kate raised her voice as a single tear dripped onto her cheek. "Don't you!"

Montgomery stood from his desk and approached her like one would a wounded animal on the side of a highway. "I was trying to protect you, Kate. Please just-"

"I don't want your protection; I want justice," she spat at him.

The captain's chin dropped to his chest and his shoulders slumped. He opened his arms, palms out flat, and said, "I don't know what to say."

Kate let out a mirthless laugh. "Let's start with the truth."

Montgomery's eyes darted to Castle and then back to Kate. "Maybe you and I should-"

"No," she cut him off simply. "Castle stays."

At her words, Castle's chest swelled with a sense of pride, but he knew that moment was not the one to address it.

With great reluctance, the Captain sat on the edge of his desk and said, "The man on that tape—the one who threatened to kill your mother if she kept investigating—is William Bracken."

"As in…Senator William Bracken?" Castle offered.

"That's the one."

"Jesus…" He muttered; he hadn't been expecting that one.

Kate stepped towards him, her brow winkled. "What was my mother involved in?"

"She…she had taken on a case—the defense of a man framed for a murder he didn't commit. He had been…he had been framed by us—the NYPD. Myself, Raglan-"

"Raglan," Kate interrupted him, her voice weak. "The man who investigated my mother's murder?"

Montgomery nodded in confirmation. "Those were dark times, Kate, and I am so, so sorry for my part in it. Truly, I am. I never wanted anyone to get hurt, least of all your mother, but Bracken…back then, he was the DA and he had us over a barrel—blackmailing us. We had no proof, not until I-"

"You?" Kate interrupted.

Montgomery nodded. "I made that recording, Kate and I gave it to your mother. It was supposed to keep her safe but…" The elder man hung his head, his appearance aging almost a full decade during their conversation.

The room stood still for a moment, before Kate finally raised her head. "But we have him now—Bracken. On that tape he confesses. We can use that and if you testify-"

"Kate," her partner interrupted her softly. She turned to him. "If he testifies, he'll incriminate himself."

Kate's tear-filled eyes turned back to the captain. Suddenly, he looked like one of her suspects who had just confessed to all of his crimes. Castle was right; she knew that. They couldn't take down Bracken without Montgomery becoming collateral damage. "Sir?"

The captain picked up the recorder from his desk and held it in his hands for several moments. He turned it, end over end, and then, with a heavy exhale passed it back to her. "I can't ask you to keep this to yourself, Kate. I've known you for a long time and I know that you won't rest until you get justice; that's what makes you such a great homicide. All I ask is for twenty-four hours. I need to tell my family before they hear about it on the evening news."

Kate pulled the recording device into her chest and nodded to him, agreeing to his request.

* * *

Three weeks later, standing in the living room of Castle's apartment, Kate watched video footage of Senator William Bracken being arrested and hauled out of his Washington D.C. office by the FBI. With Captain Montgomery's resignation and the resurrection of all of the emotions between her and her father over her mother's murder, it felt on one hand as though her life was falling to pieces. Yet, when Castle's arm slipped around her, she knew for certain it wasn't coming apart. Rather, a large chapter was merely coming to a close.

Turning to him, she slipped her arms around his waist and sunk into his chest until she found that oh-so-perfect spot she could melt into. He held her close and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "It's over, Kate," he said with an exhale.

"Thanks to you."

"Me?" he rebutted and then shook his head. "I didn't do anything."

Kate looked up at him. "You found the tape."

"By being an idiot."

She smiled at him gently. "Still, without you I don't know if I would have ever found it. Without you none of this would have been possible."

Though he wasn't sure he fully agreed, Castle chose not to argue. Instead, he pulled her and held her close, glad that she had finally found the closure she deserved.

* * *

_A/N: Friendly reminder that this story has 26 chapters + an epilogue_


	26. Chapter 25

**Twenty-five**

Richard Castle was having the best summer of his life. He went to work every day with his best friend. He came home most nights to his daughter and girlfriend's smiling faces. The fact that his best friend and girlfriend just happened to be the same person—well, that was the icing on the cake.

In the middle of July, Kate and Castle celebrated the one year anniversary of the first time they made love. While Alexis spent the night and following day with her grandmother, Kate and Castle went to dinner and then secluded themselves in his bedroom for the next eighteen hours. They lay together, talking and kissing softly. They both confessed that one year earlier they never would have predicted ending up in the place they were now, though both were entirely grateful for it.

As they reminded, Castle confessed that he was much more nervous than he let on during their inaugural coupling. He had not had sex in quite some time before that night and was afraid it would show. Kate admitted to a similar dry spell and used that as her reasoning for not noticing any awkwardness from Castle; she was simply far too eager.

The same week as their anniversary, Castle completed the last chapter of his novel featuring Nikki Heat. The book was far from ready to be sent to a publisher as it needed to be gone through several more times and probably have sections rewritten, but the fact that he had completed his first novel in years was an accomplishment on its own. More so, the enthusiasm he received from Kate on the subject meant more to him than he could ever say. _She_ meant more to him than he could ever say.

The more Castle thought about it, the more it made total sense. He was in love with her—more in love with her than he'd ever been with anyone before. She loved him, he knew that, and cared deeply for his daughter as well. He wanted to be with her forever, build a family and a future; there was no doubt about it.

Rendered completely overzealous by his feelings for her, Castle escaped from the ladies in his life the following weekend and visited half a dozen jewelry shops searching for the ring that would be perfect for Kate. He quickly discovered that engagement rings were much more expensive than he recalled them to be. Then again, the last time he shopped had been fourteen years earlier.

By the end of the day, he found a ring that fit both her taste and his budget. It was simple, but elegant in an understated way; just like she was.

With the ring purchase down, Castle knew his next step would be speaking with his daughter. Kate would not just be joining him, but them in their family. Alexis had as much right to an opinion as anyone, but he wasn't concerned; he'd seen how close they had become. On the long list of reasons why he loved Kate Beckett, one of them was undoubtedly how good she was with his daughter.

"Alexis, sweetie, can you come here a minute? I want to talk to you about something."

The young girl tossed the book she was reading aside, and walked over to join her father at the kitchen table. "What's up, Dad?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Kate."

Alexis eyed him curiously. "What about her?"

"Well, you know she's been part of our lives for a year now—over a year, and she's really become part of this family so, I…I've decided I want to ask her to marry me and I wanted to talk to you about it," he said, smiling broadly at her. "What do you think of that?"

Alexis lowered her eyes to her lap and chewed on her bottom lip. Her father's jaw dropped a few millimeters. He had expected excitement or joy from her. Or, at the very least, placid acceptance. He had not been anticipating silence.

"What's wrong, Alexis? I thought you liked her?"

Alexis looked up quickly. "I do; I do like her dad. She's really nice and fun to hang out with but…well, I don't know if I can call her 'Mom.'"

Castle almost laughed. He never expected that thought out of her; he didn't even think it was a concern. "Oh, no Alexis you don't have to. I mean, I don't think Kate expects that; I certainly don't."

Alexis sat quietly for another moment before asking, "Would she move in with us?"

Castle nodded. "Probably, but not right away." He and Kate had never discussed living together. It had sort of been mentioned when they went on a long weekend vacation together; both of them agreed that spending time together—the three of them—had been very nice, but the subject of her actually moving in with them had never been broached. Knowing what he knew about her, Castle figured Kate wouldn't want to start packing boxes the same day she accepted his proposal; she needed time to adjust and he had no problem with that.

The girl smiled up at her father. "She makes you happy, doesn't she?"

"Of course; very happy. I love her."

Alexis stood from her chair and wrapped her arms around her father's shoulders, giving him a warm hug. "I'm glad you're happy, Dad."

"Well thank you," Castle said, pulling back and looking at her. "But you'll be happy too, right?"

"Sure. I mean, it already kinda feels like she lives here. Now it'll just be official." Alexis smiled at him and sat back down. "So when are you going to ask her?"

"I haven't decided yet," he told her truthfully. "Still trying to think of the best way."

"Well make it good, Dad. A girl probably only gets one proposal in her lifetime."

Castle couldn't help but chuckle at his daughter's parting words, though she most definitely had a point. As he intended to spend the rest of his life with Kate, that would mean she would only receive one marriage proposal in her lifetime. In that case, he did—per his daughter's suggestion—need to make it good.

For several days Castle thought about the best location to propose to Kate. Taking her out to dinner and doing it at a restaurant was an option, but that didn't seem right; it was too impersonal to them. He wanted to do it some place special; some place with meaning. Her apartment was always an option. He could sneak her key from her purse, let himself in and cover the place with roses and candles. That idea certainly wasn't out of the running, but he still wasn't convinced it was the best fit.

As he debated more proposal scenarios in his mind, Castle decided to write down the words he wanted to say to her on paper. He liked to think he had an above average skill level with the written word, but when it came to putting pen to paper on the subject of his feelings for Kate Beckett, he found himself struggling. How could simple words express how he felt with every fiber of his being? Worse yet, even if he did find the right words, would he be able to say them without tripping up or babbling like a fool. That's when he got his next idea: he would propose by letter. Well, by email.

Kate and Castle had met at the twelfth precinct. Their joined desks had been the place where he learned about her, laughed with her, and, ultimately, fallen in love with her. Though it may not have been as romantic as a flower and candle filled bedroom, it certainly was the place that fit their love the best.

Nervous butterflies in his stomach, Castle composed his proposal email. He changed the wording over a dozen times and still didn't feel satisfied, but then realized he never would. Just like with one of his novels, he had to draw a line in the sand and stop rewriting when he felt the words were right.

_Kate _

_When I thought of how I was going to do this, a million different scenarios came to my head. I wanted to do it some place that had meaning for us, or in some way that made it uniquely us. Doing this over an email might not seem like the most romantic, but I thought it was the best way because I had to do it here—at the twelfth._

_The day we became partners was the day my life became extraordinary. From that moment I would never be the same again, and I didn't want to be, because having you in my life changed it for the better. I love you, Katherine Beckett, and I will work every day to make you as happy as you make me. _

_Will you marry me?_

_PS – Please don't freak out about this. I know you wanted to take things slow, but I can't help myself. I don't want to spend a day apart from you ever for the rest of my life._

Castle debated the postscript, but ultimately decided to include it. As they had yet to talk about a long-term future together, he feared his proposal would rear the head of Kate's commitment phobia, but he hoped that wouldn't be the case. Though they had not discussed it, there were many other things between them that indicated a serious, long-term commitment and not just a casual relationship.

With bated breath, Castle pressed the send button on the email. He rested his elbow on the desk and his chin atop his closed fist as he leaned his head to the side so he could see around his computer monitor to Kate's face. Her eyes drifted lazily around her computer monitor until they stopped dead and widened several millimeters. Castle felt his heart clutch in his chest; this was it—she was reading his email.

Still holding his breath, he watched her eyes skim across the screen. She brought one hand up to gently cover her mouth and he could see her suck in a deep breath. She hadn't looked at him yet—why hadn't she looked at him?! He wanted to see her face light up, her smile grow ear-to-ear. Instead, she typed several words on her keyboard, clicked her mouse, and pushed herself away from her desk.

Castle watched her disappear down the hallway with a furrowed brow. Holy shit—had she refused his proposal?! How as that even possible? He had been sure she'd accept. Mostly sure. Pretty sure.

Oh god.

When an email appeared in his inbox, Castle jumped; it was from her. His heart racing, he moved his mouse to click on the message. Her email displayed on his screen.

_Yes._

_PS – I'm not freaking out._

It was all Castle could do to stop himself from literally leaping from his chair with joy. Now he understood why she walked away; she wanted him to follow so they could celebrate without an audience. He stood with such haste that he knocked his chair back into the desk behind him, drawing the attention of several officers in the vicinity. With a nervous laugh, he pushed the chair back into the desk as casually as he could before following his partner—his fiancée!—down the hall.

* * *

Kate Beckett rose from her desk taking slow, even breaths. Despite her best efforts, her hands were still trembling. She was engaged—engaged!

Reading Castle's email she could hardly believe it. It was just so out of the blue—so unexpected! Though she had never officially said the words out loud or even in her mind, she knew he would be the man she married; she'd known for a while. Absolutely no doubt existed about that fact.

In her mind, there was no need to rush. She would never have pressured him for a proposal despite the fact that they had effectively been dating for over a year. They were committed and happy, which was all that matter to her. They could have continued that way for another year for all she cared, but as long as he was asking she certainly wasn't going to say no. She did tell a small lie in her email, though; she was freaking out a tiny bit.

By the time Kate reached the alley behind the twelfth she could feel her knees begin to shake. Nope, she wasn't going to cry—not at work. Her fingertips rattled so she clasped her hands tightly together in hopes of mitigating the trembling.

"Kate?"

Oh good; he had followed her just like she hoped he would. She spun around and smiled at him, though his blue eyes weren't as bright as she expected; they displayed the slightest hint of concern.

He took two steps towards her and gazed down at her clasped hands. "Are you alright? You're shaking."

She shook her head and laughed. "I'm fine; I promise."

"Really? Because if this is too soon or you're not-"

"No, no," she cut him off, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I want this. I can't imagine not having you in my life. What would that even be like?" she asked with a rhetoric laugh. Truly, she couldn't fathom it.

"Well, it would be a lot more boring, that's for sure," he concluded.

She laughed and kissed him. "I love you."

He beamed. "I love you too and I know this is sudden, but I found a ring and I got excited and-"

"A ring?" she questioned, eyebrows raised.

"Of course," he assured her in an isn't-it-obvious tone. He pulled his arms from around his waist so he could reach into the front pocket of his blazer and retrieve the midnight blue jewelry box. His eyes trained on her face, he flicked it open and watched her gasp.

"Oh Castle; it's perfect."

"Yeah?" he asked, plucking it from the box. She held out her left hand to him and slipped the ring on her fourth finger.

"Yeah, it is," she nodded. Tears had already formed in her eyes, but by that point she didn't even care if they fell.

Gathering her back up in her arms, Castle asked, "Are you happy, Kate?"

She nodded and leaned her face in so their foreheads bumped together. "More than I could ever have imagined."


	27. Chapter 26

**Twenty-Six**

For the few weeks following their engagement, Castle and Kate were, quite simply, nauseating to be around. Rarely were they in each other's presence without being physically connected to each other. They held hands, had their arms around each other's waists, and kissed frequently. It grew to the point where Alexis demanded that they stop or else she would never be able to eat food again; she was simply too queasy.

While they were at work, they were forced to act as professional as they could, though it was difficult for both of them. The captain who replaced Montgomery after his retirement was not aware of their romantic relationship. Castle, Kate and McCreary came to an agreement that he would not report their relationship and, in exchange, they would work five shifts for him at any time—no questions asked. As he faced pressure from their coworkers to comply, McCreary was forced to agree, though it was obvious he was unhappy about it.

Despite being able to keep their relationship under wraps up to that point, they knew that with their engagement that time was drawing to a close. Kate did not wear her ring at work, but she suspected their new captain, a former internal affairs investigator named Gates, was suspicious of their close relationship. Until the time came for them to reveal the status of their personal relationship they tried their best to work efficiently and close as many cases as possible, thus making them appear as best as they could in Gates's eyes.

At home, they were equally in sync, finding their rhythms in the evenings just as easily as ever. Kate had taken over making dinner most nights so her fiancé could continue to work on and edit his novel in the hopes of having it ready to send to publishers before the holidays. Both he and Kate were very much looking forward to the possibility of it being published.

After their engagement, Kate, Castle and Alexis sat down to discuss their family situation. They all agreed that Kate would ultimately move in with them and this would probably occur before their marriage as they had not yet set a date for that, but there was still no rush. Mostly, their casualty came from the fact that the Castle apartment was already very full, and adding Kate's belongings to the mix would make it borderline cramped.

Kate suggested looking for a larger apartment for them to share, and Castle was not opposed to this idea. He, however, wished to wait to see if he could get his book published first. In his mind, however much money he received in advance for the book would dictate the size and location of the apartment they could buy. As they had also discussed the possibility of adding another child to their family (several years into the future, of course) he wanted to make sure their new place was large enough to have space to expand and more money would certainly help that.

On a Friday in late September, McCreary called upon the third of his cover-my-shift-with-no-questions-asked freebies. Unfortunately, it was a graveyard shift he was requesting be covered. As they regularly worked overnight shifts in their rotation, Kate and Castle wouldn't have necessarily minded, except they had just come off a week of those shifts and were looking forward to a real night of sleep. Kate volunteered to take it, but her fiancée refused; he would let her sleep and take the shift himself.

Only after he agreed, Castle realized that he'd also agreed to let Alexis attend a birthday party that same evening. Kate offered to switch with him, but he said he didn't mind so long as she spent the night at his place and made sure Alexis returned home for her eleven o'clock curfew.

"It shouldn't be a problem," Castle explained to her. "The party is actually in our building—an apartment on the seventh floor—and Alexis has never once missed her curfew…though, in fairness, she hasn't had one for more than a year."

Kate laughed. "Well, it is Alexis; I'm not really that concerned."

That evening when Alexis came home from school, Castle explained to her that he would be going back to work, but Kate would be staying in the apartment and Alexis could contact her if anything went wrong. Kate even offered to fix the girl's hair for the party, but Alexis refused; she had everything under control. After kissing both girls' foreheads, Castle left for his shift knowing Alexis was in good hands.

After Alexis left for her party, Kate heated herself a can of soup for dinner and sat alone at the kitchen table to eat it while browsing Castle's iPad for any interesting news articles. Once she finished eating and cleaned up her dishes, she stood in the middle of the kitchen deciding what to do for the evening. She really should have been cleaning something or perhaps doing laundry, but she was really just too tired from a week full of bizarre sleep. Instead, she decided she just wanted something mindless to entertain her, so she plopped herself in front of the television and reached for the remote.

Several hours later Kate awoke with her neck cramped against the sofa arm rest. She grumbled, stretched, and then shuffled her way to the bathroom. On her way back to the sitting area, she realized that the door to Alexis's room was open and the light was off, meaning the girl had yet to return from the party. Kate found that odd, but then realized she had absolutely no idea what time it was.

When she walked back to the kitchen, she found the clock on the stove displayed five minutes to eleven. Perfect; Alexis would be home at any moment. She busied herself straightening up the pillows on the couch and the books placed haphazardly on the coffee table before checking the clock again. 11:01.

Well, okay, she decided; she would give the girl the benefit of the doubt. She recalled many a time that she had pushed the limits of her curfew to the very millisecond. Particularly in her early teen years, her father considered her being thirty seconds late a near criminal offense. Her mother, the more relaxed of the two, would laugh and tell him to give her a break. She never saw herself being a strict or unreasonable parent, especially when it came to punctuality, so she decided to give the girl a few extra minutes.

When 11:15 rolled around, Kate grew concerned. Yes, Alexis was in the same building, so she was probably fine; she just wasn't paying attention to the time. Kate called her cell phone, but was not surprised when the girl didn't answer. Instead, she sent a text message asking her to come home or call her to let her know what was going on.

At 11:26 Kate was genuinely concerned. She knew if it was her child who was not home almost half an hour after their curfew, she would have been very upset. Knowing that it was Castle's daughter, she felt conflicted. Of course she felt responsible for the girl, but she did not want to seem too overbearing or overstep the boundaries of their not-exactly-step-mother relationship. She briefly wondered how Castle would handle the situation and then realized she wasn't sure; Castle never encountered this before.

With a deep breath, Kate called Alexis's cell phone once more. It rang until it went to voicemail; the girl never answered. Kate sent her another text message, which likewise went unanswered. She paced the hallway for the next four minutes mentally debating her next move before finally walking to the door, shoving on her shoes, and grabbing her keys on the way out. She could not believe it, but she was absolutely going to become _that_ parent—er, guardian.

Kate walked to the elevator and punched the button labeled with a seven. She tapped her foot impatiently during her five floor ride up and exited the car on the correct floor. She made her way around the corner to 7D, never more thankful she had asked for the exact apartment before the girl left. She took a deep breath before knocking firmly on the apartment door. She waited and waited and waited some more, but the door never opened.

Now genuinely concerned, Kate pounded on the door with her closed fist and announced the statement that almost never failed to elicit a response. "NYPD—open up!"

After several seconds, she could hear the door being unlatched. A preppy looking teen with mussed hair and a sleepy expression opened the door, though the chain was still on it. "Hey, you're not a cop…"

"Yes I am," she informed him.

"You're wearing sweatpants."

"My badge is downstairs—look, I'm just trying to find Alexis Castle. Is she here?"

The boy looked her up and down again. "You her mom?"

"No, but I need to know where she is."

The boy nodded before shutting the door. He then unlatched the chain and opened it again. "Alexis is in there somewhere," he said, gesturing casually towards an adjoining room.

Kate stepped inside and followed the boys direction to a dark room lit only from the ambient light in the hallway. For several seconds, Kate stood in the doorway wondering what was going on. Had Alexis failed to tell her father that the party was actually a sleepover? No, that didn't make sense; she didn't take anything with her when she left other than the birthday gift. Besides, if the party had turned in to a sleepover, she should have called.

Clearing her throat, Kate knocked on the wood frame of the door. "Alexis? Alexis Castle are you in here?"

Kate heard some grumbling coming from inside the rom and realized it was occupied by more than a few people. She turned back to the front door to find the boy who had answered the door, but discovered he was gone. What the hell was going on here, she wondered. Where was the parent hosting this party? She may not have had children of her own, but she was fairly sure thirteen year olds should not be left completely unsupervised.

Grumbling to herself, Kate reached he hand inside the dark room and groped along the wall until she found a light switch. She flicked it on and then blinked rapidly so her eyes would adjust. Scattered around the room on chairs, the floor, and couches she spotted several pairs of teens. Boy-girl pairs. Boy-girl pairs who appeared quite occupied with each other's lips. Sweet Jesus, she had interrupted a make-out party. It was official: she was _that_ parent.

Upon facing many jeers from the occupants of the room, Kate stepped inside. She just needed to get Alexis and get out. She scanned the room before she spotted the orange-haired girl sprawled out on a bean bag chair with a blonde male companion. Kate approached her, arms folded over her chest. "Do you know what time it is?" she demanded, then cringed almost immediately; how had her father's voice come out of her mouth? At least she hadn't tacked a "young lady" on to the end of her question.

"Kate!" the girl spluttered with embarrassment, sitting up and adjusting her t-shirt. "What are you doing here?"

"It's after eleven-thirty, Alexis; you should have been home half an hour ago."

From across the room, Kate heard a snigger. "Alexis, is that your mom?"

"She's my father's girlfriend," Alexis responded.

"Fiancée," Kate corrected sharply. A chorus of "Oooh" filled the room.

Alexis stood quickly, the color of her face beginning to match her hair. "Kate," she hissed to the older woman. "You're embarrassing me."

"Then you should have been home on time," Kate informed her quietly. Then, she stepped back and pointed towards the door. "Get your purse; we're leaving."

She shot Kate a pleading look, but the elder woman's expression didn't flinch. With great reluctance, Alexis stomped out of the room. Kate followed her at a much more subdued pace, scanning the faces of the gaping teenagers as she went. Damn. How old had she been at her first make out party? Fifteen at least. At thirteen she most assuredly would have been uncomfortable kissing a boy in a room full of other couples kissing.

"Yet another pivotal conversation Castle is going to miss," Kate muttered to herself as she walked out into the hall. As the young girl's pace far outmatched hers, by the time Kate arrived at the elevator, the car had already descended with Alexis so she had to wait. She arrived back at Castle's apartment just in time to hear the door to the girl's room slam shut.

"Alexis," she said, walking down the hall. "We need to talk about this."

"Go away!" came the girl's response.

"I'm not going to go away," Kate said when she stopped outside the bedroom door. "I'm not going to yell at you; we just need to talk."

Alexis whipped open the door, fire burning in her eyes. "Why? You're not my mother."

Kate held a steady gaze. "I'm not trying to be your mother, but your father did leave me in charge of you. We both expected you to be home by eleven. You're only thirteen, Alexis; you shouldn't be staying out until almost midnight."

"I wasn't out," Alexis retorted in a mocking voice. "I was at Kacey's apartment."

"With a bunch of boys. I don't recall you saying this party was co-ed not to mention unsupervised," Kate said pointedly. _You're lucky your father wasn't the one who found you_, she added silently.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Alexis shrieked. "That's what you're angry about? A boy finally wants to kiss me and you can't even be happy for me."

"I am happy for you, Alexis, but this was not just a boy kissing you, was it?" Kate countered.

Alexis folded her arms tightly over her chest. "We didn't do anything."

"Well, that's nice to hear, but you have to understand why I'm concerned finding you at a party like that when you're just thirteen."

"Oh my god, Kate—relax," she said, rolling her eyes and stomping across the hall to the bathroom.

Kate's gut clenched and she felt the spirit of her father enter her body. "Excuse me, Alexis, but you should not be taking that tone with me—nor should you be rolling your eyes."

Alexis poked her head out of the bathroom and retorted, "My dad wouldn't care."

"I think he would," Kate countered. "But we'll find out when he gets home."

Alexis's jaw dropped. "You're going to tell him?"

"Of course."

"Oh my god you just—how could you—I can't even believe—ugh! You barged into the party and embarrassed me and now you're tattling on me to my dad!"

Her voice calm, Kate said, "I'm not tattling."

"Yes you are! I hate you!" Alexis proclaimed before storming back to the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

Kate flinched at the loud noise. Well, that certainly hadn't gone as she planned. Knowing from her own youth it was best to let the girl sleep off her anger, Kate returned to the living area and picked her phone. She texted her partner saying that Alexis was fine, but she had missed their curfew and they would talk about it when he got home. Then, after turning off all the lights, she went into their bedroom and lay down for a very fitful night of sleep.

* * *

Kate startled awake to the feeling of the bed shaking. She sat up quickly, alarmed and confused, until her eyes fell on the face of her partner. "Oh god, Castle," she groaned and rubbed her face. "What time is it?"

"'bout six thirty," he explained. "So what the heck happened last night? Or do you need coffee before you explain?"

"No, it's okay," Kate said through a yawn.

He smiled. "You sure? I'll go make you some."

"No, no," she shook her head and gestured for him to sit. He sat on his side of the bed and then she explained to him the events of the night before. As much as she didn't want to, she left no detail out, including the state of the room in which she found Alexis. Though she saw Castle's jaw tense, he didn't say anything until the end of her story.

"I wasn't really sure what to do," she said to him. "I mean, if it was my place to yell at her."

"No, no," Castle said, reaching out to stoke her arm. "You absolutely did the right thing. Actually, you were kind; I probably would have stormed that apartment with my badge and gun drawn."

Kate laughed. "Well that would have embarrassed her for sure."

Castle's eyes dropped to his lap and then he looked up at her cautiously. "She definitely had all her clothes on, right?"

Kate bobbed her head. "Yes; I'm certain they were just kissing."

"But, my god, they could have been-"

"I know," she sighed.

He groaned and covered his face. "I don't think I'm ready for this yet."

She patted his arm while thinking, _Tell me about it_.

"I mean, kids these days move fast, but they don't lose their virginity at thirteen, right? Do they? Oh god, do they!?" he demanded, his voice more frantic with each question.

"I honestly have no idea," she responded. "And I think you're asking the wrong girl. At thirteen I wouldn't have even thought about having sex."

"Me neither. Well, okay, I did, but not seriously. Even if I had been presented with an opportunity I probably would have freaked out about it," he said with a laugh.

Kate smiled. "You realize that might be true for Alexis, too, right?"

"But it might not be," he countered. "Well, I guess I know what conversation I'll be having before the weekend is out…But first, I'll be talking to her about her behavior last night and how she talked to you; that's now how we treat family."

"Oh," Kate said, feeling her cheeks begin to flush, "you don't have to consider me family."

"But you are," he assured her. She gazed at him cautiously. He slid over and took her hands in his. "You are family, Kate. The moment I put that ring on your finger—well, before it, actually," he smiled at her. "You're family, no questions asked. To me and to Alexis."

"Oh well, I don't think she feels that way. After last night I'm pretty sure she hates me," Kate confessed.

"She doesn't—not really," Castle promised. "Though, actually, that's kind of your proof. She'd never be that angry with a non-family member. Ironic. Welcome to the joys of parenting a teen girl." He grinned and patted her shoulder. Then, quickly, he backtracked. "I mean, ah, not that you're a parent because-"

"No, Castle it's fine." She smiled at him. After all, that was how she thought of herself the night before. "I want…I want to be involved as much as you want me involved—as much as she wants me. I just don't want her to hate me."

"She doesn't hate you. Trust me. She'll apologize soon enough—probably very soon after she gets up. She can't stand the guilt of thinking people are upset with her," he explained.

Kate shook her head and brushed her fingertips over he brow. "I guess I have a lot to learn."

Castle gazed at her carefully. "But you want to, right?" She smiled and nodded at him, so he leaned down and kissed her. "Family?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Family."

* * *

_A/N: This was the last official story chapter. There is an epilogue but it's short-ish so I'll probably post it Monday or Tuesday._

_Thank you guys so much for all your reviews; I really appreciate you taking the time to do that!_


	28. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Welcome back. It's eight thirty-seven and I'm sitting down with novelist Richard Castle, whose newest work, _Naked Heat_, hits bookshelves tomorrow. Mr. Castle, it's so nice to have you here."

Castle smiled warmly at the _Good Morning America_ anchor across from him. The blonde woman's eyes sparkled, but they paled in comparison to his wife's. "Thank you; it's nice to be here."

"So this is your second novel, correct?"

"It's actually my fourth, but the second in the Nikki Heat series, yes," he confirmed politely.

The woman picked up his book from the table between them and displayed the cover to the camera opposite them. "Nikki Heat—a savvy, smart NYPD Detective. Is it true she was inspired by your wife?"

"She wasn't my wife at the time, but yes these books were inspired by her and our partnership working homicide cases."

"That's right, you were NYPD, weren't you? For how many years?"

"Eight," he told her. "Before I retired to pursue writing full time."

"Well we're all grateful for that," the woman said with an airy chuckle.

Castle nodded to her, keeping the grin plastered on his face. Some days, his tenure at the NYPD seemed like it had to be at least a decade long, but others made it feel as though it flew by in the blink of an eye. Just as he could hardly believe that he and Kate had been married for over two years and that he had been off the force for almost the same period of time.

"I see the dedication in your book is to Alexis and Thomas—those are your children, correct? Have they read the book?"

Castle chuckled. "Well, my son is only six months old so he can't read quite yet and even if he could I don't imagine my wife would let him read about murders for a few more years yet."

The reporter winked at him. "Probably a good idea."

"But," he continued, "my daughter reads them and she enjoys them—at least, that's what she tells me."

"I'm sure she does," the reporter said. Then, displaying the book to the camera she said, "_Naked Heat_ by Richard Castle is in stores tomorrow—make sure you go out and buy yourself a copy."

"Buy two," Castle added with a laugh.

When the director announced that their segment had cleared, Castle shook the reporter's hand, took off his microphone, and stepped off the set where his wife waited with a patient smile. "See. That was what? Two minutes? I told you that you didn't have to come down here for this."

"Well," she said, snaking her arms around his neck, "it's not every day my husband is on television; I didn't want to miss that."

"So what'd ya think?" he asked with a grin.

She nodded with approval. "Very nice. I'm proud of you, you know that?"

He nodded. "I do, but I can't take all the credit; I couldn't have written any of this without you." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and lowered his lips to her ear. "You're my inspiration for everything."

Kate felt tingles travel down her spine at his words. She had heard him say it before, but knew she would never tire of it. She gave him a quick squeeze before nodding towards the exit. "C'mon. Let's go find your mother and Thomas. He told me he wants to take you out to breakfast to celebrate."

"Really?" Castle laughed. "Is he paying too?"

"Yep. He'll pay you in cuddles," she smiled up at him.

"Well," he grinned, "how can I say no to that?"

* * *

_A/N: Thank you SO, SO, SO much to everyone who read this story. I really cannot express to you how much I appreciate you taking the time to read (because it was so long!) and review. _

_Up next is my Castle Rom-Com fic #1 (if you follow Castlefanfics on Tumblr you may have seen Alex's prompt about this a few months ago). I'm actually doing 2 because I can't help myself. The first one is **While You Were Sleeping** based off the movie of the same title. If you have not seen that movie (its from the early 90's and stars Sandra Bullock) it is lovely and you should watch it immediately. It is absolutely, hands down one of my favorite rom-coms. I'm going to take a week or so off before I post it mostly bc it still needs edited again and I'm in the middle of writing Rom-Com #2 ("Speak Now" based on the movie _Made of Honor_ if anyone is curious)_

_But definitely look for WYWS before August._

_Thanks again!_


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